After destroying his powerful foe, Zhang Qi's face remained without shock or joy. Only the blood-red glow on the surface of that Demon Blade flickered ceaselessly, its entire body giving off an eerie, demonic aura.
Then Zhang Qi raised his head. His pupils had actually turned silver-white.
The aura around him grew faint and indistinct.
At a glance, he did not look like a Spirit Division Stage cultivator. Instead, he bore a slight resemblance to an ordinary mortal.
But this was not because he had grown weaker. Rather, all the magic power in his body had been drawn inward.
Like this, he seemed even more like an assassin.
As if he were a venomous snake hidden in the shadows, and every cultivator who entered the Hundred Thousand Mountains would become its prey.
At the same time, Ancestor Wandu had also entered the depths of the Hundred Thousand Mountains.
As a mighty Tribulation Transcendence-level cultivator, he had set out the latest, so he had instead fallen behind all the sect members and disciples.
Ancestor Wandu was in no hurry. If it came down to manpower, how could those outside cultivators compare with the Hundred Poisons Sect? As the saying went, even a powerful dragon could not crush the local snake.
He was determined to obtain the treasure that had appeared in the Hundred Thousand Mountains this time, and he had more than an eighty percent certainty of doing so.
Ancestor Wandu flew along leisurely.
The situation ahead would naturally be investigated clearly by the disciples. He only needed to conserve his strength and wait for intelligence.
Meeting the exhausted with the rested—this old monster's wishful abacus was clicking away quite nicely.
Yet right at this moment, a sharp cry entered his ears. That sound was piercing to the extreme, and