Amid the clouds and mist, Wang Xian had no idea how many experts from the Flood Dragon Clan had gone to the foot of the mountain where the Daoist temple stood.
He thought, Good thing Senior Sister and Bear Two went to the East Sea. Otherwise, this battle would've gotten lively.
As he was pondering this, he suddenly dropped out of the clouds and landed beneath a tree.
He looked up and saw four enormous characters carved into a massive blue stone in front of him: "A wondrous realm on a sacred mountain."
Forget the sects gathered at the foot of the mountain where the Daoist temple stood—even Old Daoist hadn't expected a scroll to transport Wang Xian straight to the Flood Dragon Clan on Sacred Mountain.
This was insane!
The Flood Dragon Clan's chief, Ao Tian, was scouring the world with his experts to hunt down Wang Xian. And he'd run straight to the clan's lair.
You want the heads of me and my master? Then I'll set your lair ablaze.
Now that they'd torn off the mask, who was afraid of whom?
He waved his hand and used an invisibility talisman written by his master, concealing his presence.
While all the experts of the Flood Dragon Clan were away, every last one of them hunting him down, Wang Xian quietly made his way up the mountain.
Even Old Daoist didn't know that, by some strange twist of fate, Wang Xian had bought quite a lot of lamp oil while out shopping with Senior Sister last time.
Burning talismans, explosive talismans, and the talismans his master had written over the years—Wang Xian stuck one in every corner along his path.
A breeze swept across the mountainside, making a thorough tour of the Dragon Clan's territory.
With lamp oil and