Someone suddenly spoke beside his ear. The mysterious, sinister black-robed cultivator was instantly alarmed. Looking up, he saw a pair of eyes in the night, bright as blazing stars, gazing deeply at him. They made him feel as though he were nothing more than an ant.
Fear welled up from the depths of his heart.
The black-robed cultivator's hand trembled, his brush veered aside, and the array he had painstakingly drawn halfway through split apart and was ruined.
The black-robed cultivator felt both heartache and fury. He suddenly steadied himself and sensed the aura of the person behind him. Though that aura was strange and profound, the Lingli it gave off was weak—merely Foundation Establishment. His fury immediately flared even hotter.
"Foundation Establishment brat, you dare ruin my great work! You're courting death!"
The black-robed cultivator immediately swept out his right hand, flinging a ball of green light at Mo Hua. Poison Gas coiled toward him, seeking to melt away his flesh and blood. Mo Hua tapped the ground and slid three steps back, then pointed at the black-robed cultivator. "Capture him."
The black-robed cultivator froze, then sneered. "Who do you think you are? You say capture me, and—"
Before he could finish, a tall figure shot out of the darkness, a long spear blazing like fire as it charged at the black-robed cultivator.
"Golden Core Middle Stage?!"
The black-robed cultivator's expression changed drastically. He immediately produced a green Poison Cauldron. Once activated, it released smoke so dense it seemed solid, intending to envelop him within it. But Chi Feng was faster. His flaming long spear pierced through the green poisonous miasma and punched straight through the black-robed cultivator's arm. With a muffled groan, the Poison Cauldron fell to the ground, its power shattered.
The black-robed cultivator gritted his teeth