"Ah? Why?"
Ye Honglian's voice turned sharp and tremulous. Her once frosty, clear eyes stared fixedly at the object in Wang Xian's hand.
An indescribable look of shock crossed her face—
Confusion, fear, and a hint of relief she couldn't quite explain were all mixed together in that expression.
The look of horror on Xuanyuan Que's face was like ice frozen solid.
He slowly turned around and watched Wang Xian withdraw the spirit sword pressed against his chest. The moment the blade left his throat, he could still feel its icy touch lingering on his skin.
Then he reached out and took the string of beads Wang Xian offered him.
In a flash!
In the blink of an eye!
Everyone's breathing stopped in that instant.
Every person present stared, dumbfounded, at Wang Xian—and at Xuanyuan Que, whose figure was like a ghost—no! Like a demon!
Only moments ago, Wang Xian had still been giving off the faintest trace of the Demonic Eye's aura. That strange, powerful fluctuation had nearly convinced Xuanyuan Que.
The Demonic Eye was on this young man. But now—
Wang Xian clearly had no Demonic Eye in his hand. He didn't even have a trace of demonic aura!
That aura had evaporated into thin air, vanishing without a trace.
Xuanyuan Que took the string of beads from Wang Xian. They looked utterly ordinary, even somewhat dull.
A little dust clung to their surface, not yet completely gone—or rather, it was bone powder.
Fine, grayish-white bone powder lodged in the grooves of every bead, glimmering eerily in the dusky light.
He was a prodigy of Sunset City, a powerhouse who stood at the very peak.
Even if he had to lift a snow-capped mountain, his hands wouldn't tremble in the slightest... Yet now, all he did was hold