The originally well-organized competition had turned into this chaotic scene.

Zi Donglai lay in a pool of blood, barely breathing. Seeing his daughter restored to her original state, a faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

Chu Xian, holding the unconscious Zi Yan, slowly descended to the ground.

Reflecting on the entire process, the Purple Cloud Holy Land proved to be a sect with a sense of honor.