Wuzhuang Temple

Several days later.

Yang Jian traveled northwest with the Howling Sky Hound.

Above the sea of clouds, the wind howled.

The Howling Sky Hound's injuries had yet to fully recover, yet it never fell even half a step behind.

Though it said nothing, Yang Jian could see that every time it stepped upon the clouds, blood and qi churned through the wound on its back.

The Heavenly Demon bloodline truly was formidable.

Had it been an ordinary member of the Demon Race, a slash across the spine from the Blue-Faced Demon General would likely have left it sprawled on the ground long ago.

Yet the Howling Sky Hound had forcibly matched Yang Jian's pace through sheer ferocity.

The Black Flood Dragon Spirit clicked its tongue from within the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Blade. "Little Howling Sky, if you can't hold on, just say so."

"Master won't laugh at you. I will only laugh at you a couple of times at most."

The Howling Sky Hound said coldly, "Shut up."

The Black Flood Dragon Spirit said, "Heh, this little dog has quite the temper."

The Howling Sky Hound said, "Call me little dog again, and sooner or later I'll bite you."

The Black Flood Dragon Spirit burst out laughing.

"You'll bite a blade?"

"Don't want your teeth anymore?"

A vicious glint entered the Howling Sky Hound's eyes.

Yang Jian said mildly, "If you two still have the strength to bicker, you might as well pick up the pace."

The Black Flood Dragon Spirit immediately said, "Master, this little dragon can speed up whenever you wish."

The Howling Sky Hound also said in a muffled voice, "So can I."

Yang Jian said nothing more.

He merely raised his head and gazed toward the end of heaven and earth.

As they continued onward, that desolate,