Xing Rong opened his mouth without hesitation and swallowed the black talisman. A spell formula appeared in his mind. It was mainly a method for controlling his qi and blood. As he followed its instructions, the dragon shadow inside the talisman shrank away into the deepest part of his body.
"Pack up the tents here and leave on your own. Once you've completed the task, return to the area near the Dragon-Slaying Guillotine." After that, the voice inside the talisman fell completely silent.
Xing Rong felt a little exhilarated. Before he knew it, hundreds of thousands of years had passed. The Dragon Lord trapped inside the Dragon-Slaying Guillotine had gained some ability to act, and his divine sense could affect the area around it.
But all these years, aside from guiding Xing Rong's cultivation, the Dragon Lord had never asked him to do anything. Clearly, even the Dragon Lord's head was powerless to escape. Now that the Dragon Lord's limbs outside had gathered together, Xing Rong had received further instructions as well.
Xing Rong suspected that Lu Xiaotian had secretly arranged this instruction himself. Xing Rong's cultivation was too low; on his own, he couldn't accomplish anything. Clearly, Lu Xiaotian hadn't placed all his hopes in him and had merely made him a hidden piece on the board.
Still, Xing Rong wasn't dissatisfied. The gap between them was simply too great. Even if he risked his life to help, he might not be able to do much. If Lu Xiaotian had truly pinned his hopes on him, Xing Rong would have thought him rather unreliable.
It was only natural for Lu Xiaotian to seem mysterious to him.
Xing Rong did as instructed, packed up the tents, then drifted away. Countless immortals passed to and fro nearby, each busy with their