Wash Your Neck

To the back of the mighty dragon, a tower that stood kilometers tall glided through the air, exuding a radiating black-red aura. 

They were all cultivators, so they could clearly see it. Dyon stood on the top floor of the tower, a light smile playing his features as he was surrounded by four beauties. 

The dazzling but petite Alexandria Sacharro. 

The cold and blood thirsty Amphorae Sacharro. 

The roguish and temperamental Clara Sacharro. 

And last but not least, the gentle goddess Madeleine Sacharro. 

If they weren't clear that Dyon and the Masked Wife Stealer were one in the same yet, right now, they were absolutely certain. Many eyes couldn't help but land on True God Anak whose gaze seemed to be spitting fire. 

Within the Blade Clan elders, a familiar white-haired man looked up, the utmost seriousness on his features. He hoped what he was worried about wouldn't happen… Unfortunately, there was no free lunch in this martial world.