The flames burned like clusters of bright orange flowers dancing in the air.
It had originally been an utterly ordinary scene—a completely ordinary pile of fire. Yet when Zhang Yang gently placed the Spirit of the Earth he had summoned and condensed through the Witch Prayer Talent into the flames...
In that instant, every Xing Clan villager watching seemed to be struck hard in the depths of their hearts. Then a long-lost, incomparably familiar yet strangely unfamiliar surge of blood made tears stream uncontrollably down their faces. Although they knew nothing at all at that moment, they nevertheless felt the intimate warmth of returning home.
It was like minced garlic and cilantro in salty tofu pudding—the kind of memory etched into one's very bones.
It could not be spoken of or described!
Zhang Yang's sub-account body also began trembling uncontrollably. The blood in his body surged like a hundred thousand rivers, roaring without end. This was a summons from the depths of his bloodline genes, an acknowledgment that had nothing to do with the soul.
"I feel like I've broken some incredible Bind. The Xing Clan imprisoned the Ancient Witch Clan's bloodline totem, and now I've opened it. Oh no, I'm panicking. This won't do—I have to inform the main body. If the karma and mess I've attracted are too big, I can't cover for it."
"Ugh, main body, I really didn't mean to screw you over. You have to listen to my explanation—"
Even while thinking that, Zhang Yang honestly brought both hands closer to the wondrous flames. He felt no scorching heat, only warmth and familiarity. The flames licked and coiled around him, spreading from his arms until they enveloped his entire body. The blood within him surged even more fiercely, like ocean waves, like rumbling thunder. A