Strength Creates Miracles!

This guy had broken through.

The last time they met, Yang Mie had still been grinding away at the threshold of half-step Spirit Transformation. Back then, he had just devoured the source essence of a high-level demon and was slowly digesting it.

A few months had passed, and he had actually stepped straight across.

A Spirit Transformation cultivator under fifty.

Zhou Xuan silently calculated that number in his mind, then chose not to think about it.

If he kept thinking, it would not be very friendly to his mental health.

"You're back?"

Yang Mie landed in Desolate Valley, patted the dust from his robes, and grinned.

Compared with that bunch of Extreme Sect sect masters in the Northern Lands who bowed and scraped, Yang Mie's attitude was much more casual.

Zhou Xuan nodded, his gaze passing over Yang Mie's shoulder to look at the figure behind him.

Then he froze.

"...What the hell is that?"

Zhou Xuan's tone rarely slipped out of control for half a beat.

Behind Yang Mie stood a... thing.

It was about three feet tall, walking upright, with two legs and two arms, its overall outline just barely counting as humanoid.

But its entire body was covered in a layer of dark-red fine scales, two short horns sat on top of its head, and a tail of neither long nor short length dragged behind it, a tuft of flame-like red light hanging from the tip.

A pair of vertical pupils shone golden, fixed firmly on Zhou Xuan, some restless emotion roiling within them.

This little red dragon-man was none other than Second Brother.

Zhou Xuan remembered very clearly that Second Brother's shell was the Dragon-Blooded Flood Dragon he had previously obtained in the Eastern Continent.

Most of the time, that thing turned into a rope and