Zhang Yang glanced around and discovered that, at some point, a layer of azure mist had risen over the ruins of Black Ox Village. It was somewhat cold, but not the same kind of cold as the Yin Energy Cloud.
Within the azure mist, it seemed that figures were standing silently.
After thinking it over, Zhang Yang looked once more at the unconscious Grotesque Ox-Head.
"How should I deal with it? Braised or steamed?"
Zhang Yang found the completely unconscious Grotesque Ox-Head rather amusing.
But just then, the Ox-Head, which had still been unconscious a moment ago, suddenly opened its mouth and spat out a great mouthful of azure liquid.
The liquid immediately turned into mist when exposed to the air, enveloping Zhang Yang before he could react.
In an instant, his shadow effect vanished completely. At the same time, a strange burning agitation arose in his spiritual sea, almost plunging him into a state of frenzy at once.
Instinctively, Zhang Yang wanted to unleash a Soul Tremor or a Formless Heart Sword on himself.
But in the end, he held back, allowing that frenzy to spread through his heart. In practically the blink of an eye, his soul nearly lost control.
"%^%$%..."
A string of somewhat familiar syllables rang out. At the same time, an irresistible will was forcefully impressed upon Zhang Yang's mind, directly seizing ninety-nine percent of his soul's control.
Of course, under such circumstances, ninety-nine percent and zero control were hardly any different.
"It was actually the modified version of Demon Language: Bewitchment!"
Zhang Yang relaxed. He quickly put on a vacant, foolish expression. Mind-Bewitching Demon Language naturally had no effect on him; he was merely curious for a moment and wanted to see what exactly this Ox-Head was.
"Follow."
A message appeared within Zhang Yang's