On Merit Peak, the Tianfeng cut like knives, and crimson clouds billowed like a sea of mist. Xiao Chen threaded through the void, just about to seek out another merit vortex, when a voice as cold and bleak as a razor-sharp sword suddenly rang out behind him.
Xiao Chen's brows furrowed. His figure paused slightly as he turned his head to look back. Not far away, black bones coiled around the sky. A short, ugly young man who resembled a black-feathered chicken stood upon the heavens, his eyes strange and sinister as he stared fixedly at Xiao Chen.
His aura was powerful. He stood atop a gigantic black bone, and though the disciple robe he wore was the same one-pattern grade as Xiao Chen's, its color and style were slightly different.
"Martial King Seventh Realm! A one-pattern veteran disciple!" Xiao Chen's heart sank.
The newcomer was not a Dust Rank newcomer from the same realm as him, but a Dust Rank veteran disciple from a realm—or even several realms—higher.
The Demon Heaven Sect's assessment was strict. Anyone who had survived round after round of brutal screening and remained until today possessed foundations as mighty as a dragon. Their battle prowess could no longer be measured by realm alone.
The energy fluctuations swirling around the chicken-faced youth were extremely strange. They were immensely powerful, yet suffused with an endless sentimentality. Even though Xiao Chen had read widely and seen much, he could not recognize at first glance what kind of foundation the technique he cultivated had.
The other party's heavy malice, coupled with the fact that he had immediately questioned Xiao Chen for insulting Su Mei, made his intentions as clear as day.
Xiao Chen was helpless. He had never expected that even after ascending to the Spirit Realm, he still