Zhao Ji turned around, the gray-black scales all over his body standing on end.
Zhao Ji stared at Zhou Xuan, who stood at the edge of the Blood Pool, strange rasping sounds rising from his throat.
They were three thousand zhang underground, with demonic beasts lurking around the perimeter and Spirit Transformation Stage remains standing guard.
Yet a living man had appeared before Zhao Ji out of thin air, without releasing even the slightest ripple of spiritual power.
The expression on Zhao Ji's face froze. He looked at the Jade Slip crushed to powder in his hand, then at Zhou Xuan's expressionless face.
He had already crushed the Jade Slip. The demonic beasts in Jade Dragon City should have gone berserk. Why was Zhou Xuan still standing here?
"What did you do to the remains outside?"
Zhao Ji's voice was hoarse, carrying a tremor even he failed to notice.
Zhou Xuan had not even drawn his sword. He merely rested his hand on its Sword Hilt and answered casually, "Took them apart."
Zhao Ji's eyelids twitched violently. Those were the remains of a Spirit Transformation Stage demonic beast. After steeping in this pool of resentful qi for so long, they would strip a layer of skin off even a late Spirit Transformation Stage Cultivator who entered. Yet Zhou Xuan said he had taken them apart.
"Impossible."
Zhao Ji roared, the black veins across his body swelling.
"You're only a nascent soul cultivator. Even if you concealed your aura and slipped in, you couldn't have silently destroyed Spirit Transformation remains."
"You know nothing of true power." Zhou Xuan stepped forward, crushing the loose stones beneath his foot.
Zhao Ji retreated half a step, his heel sinking into the Blood Pool.
Fear rose in Zhao Ji's heart. It had haunted him ever