Above Blackwind Plain, roiling dark clouds blotted out the sky.
Youming Kuang stood atop the clouds. The vertical eye on his forehead snapped open, sweeping the wasteland below with a beam of scarlet light.
"Found him."
His voice rumbled like a drum as he pointed toward the barren black stone mountain below.
"That brat is down there."
Yin Wujiu followed his finger and spotted the white-robed figure atop the mountain. The young man sat cross-legged without even opening his eyes, as though he thought nothing of the hundreds of people overhead.
"What nerve." Yin Wujiu sneered.
Youming Kuang wasted no words and swept his broad sleeve.
The thirteen chiefs and hundreds of elite ghost cultivators descended around the stone mountain like a shower of black meteors.
Baleful deathly energy condensed into tangible black mist, shrouding dozens of miles in every direction.
Youming Kuang shattered a towering black boulder beneath his feet and stared down at the white-robed young man on the mountain, his voice thick with murderous intent.
"You're the one who killed twenty-three of my brothers from the Thirty-Six Ghost Fiends?!"
Only then did Chen Changqing slowly open his eyes.
He surveyed the densely packed ghost cultivators, looked up at Youming Kuang, and finally yawned.
"That's right. I've been waiting here for you for three days."
He rose and dusted off his backside.
"You certainly took your time."
His tone was utterly casual, as though he were complaining about a late takeout delivery.
Below the stone mountain, the thirteen chiefs exchanged glances.
"He said he waited three days?"
"A Late True Monarch Stage cultivator, waiting for our Great Chief? Did he get his head caught in a door?"
"The boss is at the Mid-Heavenly Lord Stage! A Heavenly Lord!"
A late Tribulation Crossing ghost cultivator could not help cursing