A Sword Two Feet Eight Inches Long

Before Zeng Zixin could take a closer look, the man had already vanished around the corner. Zeng Zixin frowned, all manner of thoughts bubbling up in his heart.

Recently, more and more people had gathered in the camp.

People died for wealth as birds died for food. With Shangwu City showing no movement for the time being, more and more people had been drawn here. A small market had even sprung up by now.

Where there were people, there were grudges and interests; naturally, there were also things that needed to be traded.

The emergence of the market further drove the development of the entire camp, making the place increasingly bustling. If not for the fact that Shangwu City lay only dozens of miles away, and that one could sense that chilling aura after advancing a little farther—

Many people would probably have forgotten that dozens of miles away stood a Human Anomaly, and a Human Anomaly of the Joint Aperture Realm at that. Wherever it passed, not a blade of grass survived, and corpses littered the ground.

There were more and more people, yet Zeng Zixin discovered that the people he knew were becoming fewer and fewer.

Most of the people Zeng Zixin knew were Rogue Cultivators. Rogue Cultivators were highly mobile, but wherever there were profits to be had, they would settle down. There was no reason for the number of acquaintances to decrease.

A few days ago, Zeng Zixin had heard someone calling for another person. He recognized the voice—it belonged to one of a pair of twin brothers, whose cultivation was at the Early Stage Organ Refinement Realm.

But because they cultivated the same technique and had been of one mind since childhood, when the two joined forces, they could even exchange a few moves with