"We're dead, we're dead."
At the former site of Northern Feng Mountain, Qing Kui, a spy planted by the Spell Dao in this ghostly domain, felt immense pressure. He felt as though he had stepped into a trap.
"I'm taking the blame again."
"Could the mastermind have done this on purpose? Did he guess I would come to Northern Feng Mountain, so he specifically wiped out Northern Feng Mountain just to frame me?"
Surely not!
The mastermind was a Great True Lord, after all. What did he stand to gain by framing me? Besides, with my meager cultivation, I couldn't bear such a huge blame even if I wanted to.
Unless—ah.
The next instant, Qing Kui's thoughts abruptly froze. Right—besides making him take the blame, there was another possibility. Whatever else this operation had accomplished, it had at least successfully flushed him, who had been hidden so deeply, out into the open. If the other party was waiting nearby like a hunter by a tree stump—
Qing Kui raised his head, his mouth slightly open.
Heaven and earth had vanished.
All he could see was a bright lamp. It illuminated the outside world, yet cast a cluster of darkness over where he stood, instantly drowning his consciousness.
When he came back to his senses—
Qing Kui discovered that he had landed amid a vast expanse. His surroundings were hazy, their scenery indistinct. Only a majestic mountain stood at the heart of that boundless grayness.
Northern Feng Mountain.
The vanished Northern Feng Mountain was here. He had landed atop its summit, and before his eyes stood a figure with hands clasped behind his back, robes snapping in the wind.
Before that figure surged a vast sea of pill fire. It was scattered and dispersed, yet under the support of boundless dharma