Three days later, Chai YunYa returned to the northeastern corner of Netherworld Island with four God Realm powerhouses.
They streaked across the sky above the island like lightning, leaving several afterimages behind.
Chai YunYa sensed the surrounding Yin energy. Disgust crossed his face, and he gave a heavy snort.
"Damn it, the air in this hellhole makes me sick. If I weren't here on a mission, I'd never come."
Countless undead were sealed beneath this region, and the Yin energy was so dense it resembled billowing black fog.
It distorted the divine laws here. For an ordinary god, being here was like wading through a mire steeped in malice; every breath brought a nauseating discomfort.
Chai YunYa straightened his clothes, then turned a stern gaze on the four behind him. "Put on your masks. Don't let anyone identify you. We grab that white-haired man and get out."
"Yes!"
The four answered in unison. In a single motion, they took out their Black Faceless Masks and put them on.
As the masks settled over their faces, every trace of the auras they had been releasing vanished.
The masks were masterpieces painstakingly crafted by the Zhao Family's Refining Masters to conceal auras. Unless an enemy was a god with keen perception, they would struggle to detect the wearers even at arm's length.
The masks were of little use against high-level gods, but they were more than enough for ordinary enemies.
Chai YunYa led the charge toward the palace at the entrance to the Grave of the Dead, the four powerhouses close behind him.
In his mind, this mission was hardly worth worrying about.
He was a God Enlightenment Realm Middle Stage powerhouse. Capturing someone like Jiang Ping An, who was only at the God Enlightenment Realm Initial Stage, would be as easy