As Pei Ling spoke, his origin, power, vitality... everything he possessed continued to weaken as his fate slipped away. Yet his expression didn't change in the slightest, and the black Nether Heaven Mist began to spread around him.
There was no way the other party would believe such a clumsy lie!
But right now, all he needed was to buy a little more time!
Just as Pei Ling was thinking this, the Su Clan cultivator's gaze grew increasingly uncertain. Even the hand that had been gripping his throat loosened a little.
His aura and bloodline were both fine...
Could he really be a junior of her Zhen Shi Su Clan?
Sacred Sect Master...
Ancestor Netherblood...
Spirit stones... resources... cultivation...
As her thoughts turned, the Su Clan cultivator was suddenly struck by a splitting headache. Pei Ling's words had brought back memories buried for ages, memories she had nearly forgotten completely.
The price of killing the Sect Master...
The Sacred Sect's punishments...
Spirit stones... resources...
The ancestor's fury...
For a moment, the Su Clan cultivator felt as if her head were being carved apart by countless blades. Her thoughts were in utter disarray, and the eyes that had once held a pool of autumn waters, lively and bewitching, gradually filled with blood.
Her aura began to rise, revealing violence, madness, and ferocity...
But soon, the Su Clan cultivator's hand tightened around Pei Ling's throat again. She said coldly, "Su Lijing... I'll remember you, junior..."
Before her words had even finished, Pei Ling suddenly gave a strange smile, raised two fingers before his chest, and formed his final Magic Seal.
The Nether Heaven Mist surged violently, swallowing them both in an instant.
The Su Clan cultivator reacted at once. Her hand clamped around Pei Ling's throat and twisted hard. With a crisp