Yang Lingtian stood before the hall.
He watched in the direction the two had left, his gaze deep and unreadable.
"The Myriad Treasures Merchant Association is only a smokescreen. The real ghost is underground."
He pressed down slightly with his foot, and an invisible ripple traveled outward along the earth veins.
The grand formation of the entire Chaos Sacred Sect began operating without a sound.
The nine sword peaks released a low sword hum.
The rear mountain mining area.
Mangu was swinging a huge pickaxe, locked in a struggle with a stubborn piece of black gold ore.
Suddenly, he paused and abruptly looked up at the sky.
"That smell..."
He sniffed.
Nearby, Shadow Kill was squatting on the ground, picking at bat droppings.
Hearing the commotion, he also looked up.
"Killing intent."
Shadow Kill's voice was hoarse.
"Not killing intent."
Mangu tossed the pickaxe onto the ground, a trace of schadenfreude appearing on his face.
"It's the smell of blood."
"Those two Baleful Stars have gone out. Tonight, quite a few people in the Southern Suburban Region are probably going to die."
Shadow Kill said nothing. He merely lowered his head and looked at his dirt-covered hands.
Once, he had been someone who created this kind of smell. Now, he could only deal with excrement.
"As long as we're alive, that's good." He muttered the words and continued picking.
Three hundred miles west of Tianxing City stood the Treasure Gathering Pavilion.
It was a Glazed Pagoda a hundred zhang tall, its entire body shimmering with dazzling light and radiating overwhelming grandeur.
A huge luminous pearl hung from the top of the pagoda, illuminating a radius of ten li as brightly as broad daylight.
At the entrance, two rows of golden-armored guards held long halberds, standing in imposing formation.
"Stop! What