“He’s Elder Quint?” The sect master was stunned, completely dumbfounded, and unclear.

“Yes.”

Hermione Yggdrasil was Elder Quint’s disciple, and she was still familiar with her own master. She had quickly determined that the incomplete corpse in front of her was her master.

Hermione did not harbor much sadness when faced with the death of her master.

She had also watched with her own eyes how the Yggdrasil family had been struck to death by lightning just now, including her grandfather, her parents, and her sister, among others. If she were an ordinary person, she would have probably been bawling her eyes out bitterly. However, Hermione didn’t shed a single drop of tear. It was as though those relatives of hers meant nothing.

In actuality, that was likely true.

Hermione had been very talented since she was a child. From a young age, she had relied on a rubbish method of cultivation and cultivated to heights the ordinary couldn’t reach. That was why she had caught the eyes of the