The Black Crow Hermit

The Black Crow Hermit

Deng Nantian nodded, as though something had occurred to him. Curiously, he asked, "Fellow Daoist Qin, never mind that Hundred Ghosts Painting you brought out. I don't think I've ever seen you use that flute before. What kind of wondrous treasure is it? It actually made a Nascent Soul Middle Stage Cultivator fall into an illusion without realizing it. If another Buddhist cultivator hadn't used a secret art, you would probably have killed Monk Wu Ming."

"It's nothing. I happened upon that wondrous treasure by chance. It just happens to be rather effective at clouding people's minds," Qin Wuji said vaguely, looking as though he didn't want to say more.

Deng Nantian had more questions, but when he saw the icy expression on Qin Wuji's face, he swallowed them back.

Inside the White Giant City, in a certain palace.

Monk Wu Ming and the other four sat in chairs, each with a grim expression.

They could tell Qin Wuji hadn't used his full strength. He had only brought out a wondrous treasure, yet had nearly killed Wu Ming, a Nascent Soul Middle Stage Cultivator. If Qin Wuji faced any of the others, they would likely meet a terrible end.

"Master Wu Ming, are you all right? Is it serious?" Ye Qingshu broke the silence and asked with concern.

"I'm fine. I've only lost some vitality. I'll recover after resting for a while. Let's discuss how to deal with the Great Qin Demonic Dao," Monk Wu Ming said solemnly, waving a hand.

"How about we move our sect out of Eastern Qi? We haven't suffered much damage, and whether we go to Great Tang or Northern Yan, we'll have somewhere to settle," Su Zhi suggested after a brief hesitation.

"The demonic path has come in force this