Hearing the cries for help, Chen Lin immediately pulled Shi Yuelan to his side and raised his guard.
Then he saw two figures flash into view.
One old, one young.
The young man was in decent shape. Although he was only at early semi-void, he had suffered no real injuries.
The old man, however, was in a wretched state.
His robes were covered in blood, and his entire left shoulder was missing.
Black light flickered at the severed stump, clearly the remnants of some energy that prevented the limb from regenerating.
Chen Lin's expression changed at the sight of his condition.
This old man had late Void Realm cultivation. For him to have been reduced to such a state, whatever was pursuing him must have been extraordinary.
"Fellow Daoist, save us!"
The two flew up to him.
After stopping, the old man said urgently, "There's a demonic cultivator! Fellow Daoist, take my grandson and leave. I'll hold him off. Hurry!"
"A demonic cultivator?"
Chen Lin raised an eyebrow.
"How many? What cultivation levels?"
He did not flee.
There was no need.
If the enemy were at the True Realm, the old man could never have survived. That meant the enemy was at peak Void Realm at most.
Besides, it was already too late to run.
The old man had barely finished speaking when a slender figure appeared nearby, watching them expressionlessly.
The figure wore a black cloak that covered even his head, concealing his features.
But his exposed eyes were exceedingly bizarre.
They were pitch-black as ink.
There was not a trace of white in them.
The moment he appeared, Chen Lin felt an intensely cold aura invade his body. His limbs stiffened, and his divine soul shuddered involuntarily.
But the energy of his celestial fire immediately dispelled the effects.