As Qin Fengming watched the four Ghost Commander cultivators leave, his expression still had not returned to normal. Though his strength and abilities already rivaled those of a Great Cultivator at the late Nascent Soul stage, the strange occurrence in Cold Wind City had left him utterly bewildered and shaken.
The place shrouded in white mist should have been the site of Cold Wind City's stable spatial rift.
When that sacred chanting had sounded, Qin Fengming had been terrified, but he had still swiftly released his divine sense, hoping to trace its source.
Yet when his divine sense rapidly reached the white mist in the air, it still could not penetrate even the slightest distance inside.
That faltering call had shaken him even more deeply.
Fei Fengming was not from the Ghost Realm. He was certain that no karmic ties of his could possibly extend into it. Even if some ancient inheritance truly existed within that rift, it would be meant for Ghost Realm cultivators. As a cultivator from another realm, he had no more connection to a Ghost Realm inheritance than two things that could not touch even with eight bamboo poles laid end to end.
Yet he was certain that, at the time, none of the five Ghost Commander cultivators before him or the dozens of cultivators outside the Cold Night Sky restaurant had heard that faint, wavering call.
Otherwise, they could not have remained so composed. Had those Ghost General cultivators heard such a call, they would surely have lacked the composure to contain themselves and cried out first.
With those doubts lingering in his heart, Qin Fengming's expression slowly regained its calm.
The call sounded like something an old man might utter on his deathbed. Though it had startled him immensely, it contained not the slightest