In the void, there was no distinction between up, down, left, or right.
Chen Changqing had only just steadied himself when, before he could complain about this damned place's chaotic laws, something stirred in his heart.
He turned his head and looked toward the empty darkness on his left.
A moment later, ripples began spreading through the space in that area. Then, more than a dozen figures emerged, as though stepping out from the background of a painting.
These people possessed uniform auras, and their movements vaguely formed a battle formation. They clearly came from the same faction and had been rigorously trained.
At their head stood a young man holding a white jade feather fan. His features were handsome, but his brows carried the arrogant air of someone who believed everything was within his calculations.
His cultivation had astonishingly reached late Tribulation Crossing as well.
The dozen or so people behind him were all at least early Tribulation Crossing. Every one of them had a deep, steady aura and was clearly no ordinary opponent.
The moment this group appeared, they sealed off every one of Chen Changqing's escape routes without leaving a single gap.
The young man holding the feather fan swept his gaze over Chen Changqing, lightly fanning himself with an expression of complete confidence.
"You are the Shushan Holy Son, Chen Changqing?"
His tone was calm, yet it carried the scrutiny of someone looking down from on high.
Chen Changqing picked at his ear, looking as though he had not fully awakened. He lazily glanced at them.
"And which ditch-born chickens and mangy dogs are you?"
The moment those words left his mouth, the dozen people behind the young man immediately showed anger, killing intent bursting from their bodies.
Yet the young man raised a hand to