The moment Li An walked out of Pangu's heart in the blood pool of the ancestral witch palace, all the twelve ancestral witches were shocked.
If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, even they wouldn't have believed that this little guy less than a foot tall was really the thirteenth ancestral witch of the witch clan.
The aura of Father God around them was strong, completely different from their evil aura.
"Brother, I'm afraid he is God the Father's biological son. Then who are we?"
Zhu Rong looked at Di Jiang with a dumbfounded look and asked.
Li An waved his hand and said, "Don't pay attention to superficial appearances. Brothers and sisters, I am your favorite little brother Wu An."
Looking at the twelve figures standing tall in the Ancestral Witch Palace, Li An felt happy.
As long as the saint doesn't come out, he should be able to walk sideways in the prehistoric world.
As for the lich measuring calamity.
Hum, now that he is here, no one can destroy his beautiful life.
Reader comments
The realm has improved too fast. Not a single corpse has been cut off. Just relying on merit alone is almost the peak of a saint. [What] You haven't followed the law to achieve enlightenment. [Pout]
The realm has improved too fast. Not a single corpse has been cut off. Just relying on merit alone is almost the peak of a saint. [What] You haven't followed the law to achieve enlightenment. [Pout]