Chen Changqing stopped and looked up.
The sound had come from the foot of that black mountain.
He had not wanted to meddle. In the Land of the Heavenly Void, fighting tooth and nail over fortuitous opportunities was the most ordinary thing in the world.
He only wanted to search for treasures in peace, with no desire to stir up unnecessary trouble.
However, just as he was about to take a detour, a familiar aura made him change his mind.
That aura was upright and harmonious, carrying the resonance of a grand and righteous Dao.
It was a Daoist Sect cultivation technique.
After some thought, Chen Changqing decided to go over and take a look.
He concealed himself and silently approached the battle.
Soon, from behind a pile of rubble at the foot of the mountain, he saw the scene clearly.
Three cultivators were besieging a young man dressed in Daoist Sect robes.
He remembered that young man.
He was Chen Yong, the Daoist Sect disciple he had met in the Qiankun Secret Realm, who had treated him quite kindly.
Chen Yong was in a rather dire state at the moment.
He was covered in wounds, with several places on his Daoist robe stained red with blood. His aura was also somewhat disordered; clearly, he had already been through a grueling battle.
The three people attacking him all had higher cultivation than he did.
Their leader was a sinister old man holding a long crimson banner, whose cultivation had astonishingly reached late Tribulation Crossing.
The other two were both at the Tribulation Crossing Mid Stage. Their attacks were vicious, every move aimed to kill.
Judging by their cultivation methods, they appeared to be cultivators from the Demonic Sect's Blood Sect.
"Chen Yong, why struggle so bitterly?" As the sinister old