Just as the young disciple fell into deep thought, something unexpected happened—the leader's corpse, which had been lying on the ground, turned into a roiling mass of Black Fog in the blink of an eye, as though some invisible force controlled it. The Black Fog swiftly condensed, and in an instant, a Mysterious Old Man appeared before the young disciple.
The old man's face was gloomy, and an eerie aura radiated from his entire body. He gave a sinister chuckle. "Little brat, do you think killing me will solve everything? Hahaha, how naive! This was merely a little game I carefully arranged." His voice carried mockery and ridicule, as though he did not care in the slightest about what the young disciple had done.
Before his words had faded, the surrounding space seemed to twist beneath some immense force and began to tremble violently. Black cracks spread through the void like a spiderweb, and increasingly powerful demons poured out without end. Their faces were savage, and they exuded an evil aura far stronger than before, enough to send chills down anyone's spine.
The young disciple's heart tightened at the sight, and he hurriedly gripped the Treasure Sword in his hand. As he moved, the divine light on the sword burst forth like a dazzling sun, temporarily holding back the demons' assault. Yet faced with so many powerful demons, the pressure on him grew by the day, and a fine sheen of sweat gradually formed on his forehead.
At that critical moment, a brilliant immortal light streaked across the sky like a meteor and landed beside the young disciple in an instant. As the glow faded, his master appeared before him. His master looked gravely at the scene ahead and said in a deep voice, "Disciple, there must be a master