"Your name?"
"...Jalal."
"Your surname?"
"...I have no surname," the old man answered dully. "I am a descendant of the divine messengers. Bloodlines beyond mortals have no need for surnames."
"What are divine messengers?"
"Servants of the Supreme Celestial Gods," the old man said. "They have wings on their backs, live in the city in the sky, and protect the people of this city."
"The Supreme Celestial Gods..." Ali pondered for a long while. She remembered Meng Fan's miraculous performance in the shantytown and how he had flourished in Qingqiu City. That villain surely could not stump Meng Fan. At last, she nodded, straightened her clothes, and went out.
Before long, the wind and rain stopped, and the hail ceased as well. After all, the hail could not reach inside the cave. Those killed by it had all been demon beasts crowding around the entrance to watch. They had not known that watching came with risks, and one careless moment had gotten them crushed to death.
"Master sent us here to cultivate. Don't miss this opportunity," Da'er said, glancing at Ban Yanyu.
"Hmph, take me to the security department." Green Hair snorted at the arcade staff.
Only incredibly formidable yin-yang masters, or monks and Taoist priests with profound magical power, could contend with it.
After hanging up, Lin Xiaofeng stretched and glanced outside. To his surprise, dawn had already begun to break.
The pain of his severed arm made Ding Ding'ao let out a pig-slaughtering scream. Fresh blood sprayed wildly, instantly staining the yellow sand red.
Under his senses, the area within five or six hundred meters was shrouded in mist. It was truly strange; he had never encountered such a situation before.
"I really haven't seen it before." Yan Jun was somewhat irritated. Everyone kept suspecting him, but he