As he flew onward, Qin Fengming grew increasingly uneasy. He kept feeling that something was strange about this trip, as if it would be anything but peaceful.
The more he thought about it, the more bizarre and riddled with questions it seemed.
Yuan Ming held a high position in the Dry Soul Hall. Logically speaking, even if the Heavenly Ghost Holy Lord of the Profound Ghost Hall had noticed that the Profound Ghost Saint Ancestor had left behind a contingency plan, he should have sent a trusted subordinate to act. Normally, he would not invite outsiders and rely on others to deal with such a secret matter.
Yet the truth was not so. Not only had they arranged for numerous cultivators to participate, they had even drawn Yuan Ming into it. The situation was permeated with strangeness and utterly astonishing.
Qin Fengming's thoughts raced. He had a feeling that the Mahayana cultivators who had come this time were likely not limited to Yuan Ming and Saint Ancestor Qiliang. There had to be others as well—perhaps more than one or two.
Qin Fengming was not worried about this. With the enemy in the open and him in the shadows, he was fully confident he could leave safely.
The group of twenty possessed imposing might, their auras spreading wherever they passed. Even if there were Nether Soul Ghostly Creatures, they would instinctively avoid them, and very few dared to appear and block their path.
However, after flying for three days, Yuan Ming and the other three leading the way suddenly stopped.
Everyone halted and looked toward the solemn-faced Yuan Ming and the others, confusion appearing on their faces.
At the same moment Yuan Ming and the others stopped, Qin Fengming suddenly felt a chill run down his back. He abruptly sensed that