Yellow sand filled the sky. Between heaven and earth, it seemed only the howling wind and the breath of death remained.
No one had expected that the youth who had fled from Phoenix City into the depths of the desert was actually a Spirit Transformation powerhouse!
The slender figure stood atop a dune, his robes snapping in the wind.
There was not a trace of a fugitive's panic in his eyes. Instead, they were like a frigid pool, deep beyond measure.
Had Mr. Moyu not shouted and exposed Wang Xian's disguise, he might have kept hiding his strength right up to the final moment of life or death, playing the pig to eat the tiger.
But now, the truth was out.
Surrounded by the four sect leaders and several elders, this should have been a death trap with no suspense...
Murong Yu of the Yin-Yang Sect, Chen Huiru of the Cloud-Out Sword Sect, Baili Shuangmo of Hundred Flowers Valley, and Mr. Moyu of the Academy—each was a mighty figure capable of commanding awe across an entire region.
Yet just as Murong Yu and the other three women were about to strike, a sudden change erupted!
Rumble!
The yellow sand burst apart, and the earth shook!
A colossal creature, dead for who knew how many years, burst through the sand. Its ghastly white bones glimmered with an eerie light beneath the sun.
It was a flood dragon!
Or rather, a creature that had once been a flood dragon.
The desert's sandstorms over hundreds, even thousands of years had failed to wear away its bones. Instead, under the erosion of some sinister force, they had become the remains of a pitch-black demon dragon!
It rose against the wind, its skeleton spreading over thirty zhang wide.
Dark-red soul fire flickered in its hollow