"They're dead..."
Fang Xun looked at Jiang Qiao with a complicated expression, at a loss for words.
A few seconds.
Two unimaginably terrifying evil spirits had died just like that.
He raised his head.
He looked at the ghastly white sun that had already vanished from the sky. Even the bone-chilling cold around them had faded considerably.
Apparently, even that being had not expected it.
Two incarnations.
Defeated so quickly.
Or perhaps...
Had that being sensed something just now, reevaluated Jiang Qiao, and chosen to observe for the time being?
It was hard to say.
He himself had died once after hearing just a few words.
The two evil spirits...
Had also been killed almost instantly.
He's hiding a lot of secrets, secrets far beyond anything ordinary people could imagine. Fang Xun suddenly felt fortunate to have encountered him on Yellow Springs Road. Perhaps they had a chance to become friends.
The Prayer Association's methods were extremely radical, but that did not mean Fang Xun was a fool.
If he were, he would have died long ago.
Quite the opposite.
He was exceptionally clever.
His thinking was cool and rational; his actions, bold and reckless.
That was who he was.
If he could truly reconcile with Jiang Qiao, with whom he had no major conflict, and become friends, he would have another ally when the great calamity came. In his view, few of the Supernatural World's many factions were dependable.
Most were petty schemers or dead men walking, utterly worthless trash.
The Guangming Society might be powerful.
The Old Citizens might be ruthless.
But when the great calamity truly came, they might well stab one another in the back to survive and preserve their strength.
Heh.
That was the Supernatural World.
For over a thousand years since the Great Cataclysm,