Outside the node.
The Young Man surnamed Han and the young woman of the Demon Race stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the black-robed elder and his companion, who had left only to return.
"Hadn't you two left? Why have you come back?"
The young man glanced at the black-robed elder, wariness in his eyes.
"Heh heh."
The elder gave a dry chuckle. "The spatial fluctuations here are so obvious that the person refining the Spirit Treasure probably hasn't gone far. They must be hiding in the void. Haven't you two been keeping watch here all along as well?"
At those words, the young man frowned and sneered. "I've long heard that Holy Temple cultivators are cunning and full of tricks. Today, I've finally seen it for myself. A dignified Nascent Soul Cultivator playing such petty games-you've truly opened my eyes."
"You dare disrespect the Holy Temple? You're courting death!"
Before the black-robed elder could speak, the Golden-Robed Man beside him shouted angrily, glaring at the Young Man surnamed Han.
The Young Man surnamed Han's gaze turned icy. He looked at the other man with contempt. "You think you have the right to boast so shamelessly? Today, I'll see just what tricks you Holy Temple vermin, who dare not face the light, have up your sleeves!"
His aura climbed steadily, as though he were about to strike.
The black-robed elder's expression darkened. With a flick of his hand, a Black Ring appeared in his grasp.
The Golden-Robed Man and the young woman of the Demon Race also brought out their treasures, preparing for battle.
For a moment, swords were drawn and bows were bent, and the air filled with the terrifying pressure unleashed by Nascent Soul Cultivators.
Just then, the space a short distance away suddenly trembled, and ripples spread through