Wang Xuan frowned.
Martial Saints were one thing. Their blood and qi were fairly formidable, but they posed no threat to him.
What truly caught his attention were several other auras.
Within a residence in the southeastern corner of Jade Capital City, two cold, sinister auras lurked like venomous snakes.
They were the auras of Ghost Immortals, and not ordinary ones at that—Ghost Immortals who had survived at least three Thunder Tribulations.
These two auras were closest to the imperial palace. Their Yin Spirits had already left their shells and were steadily infiltrating the palace.
Wang Xuan opened his eyes, a glint of coldness flashing through them.
"Courting death."
An incomparably terrifying fist intent erupted from his body, soaring skyward like a blood-colored dragon and instantly sweeping across the skies above the imperial palace.
The clouds overhead were shredded by that imposing force, turning into a blood-colored storm that spread in every direction.
At the southeastern corner of the imperial palace, behind an artificial hill.
Two black-robed figures sat cross-legged. Their bodies flickered in and out of sight, as though they might dissipate into the air at any moment.
These were the Yin Spirit bodies of Ghost Immortals. They were invisible to the naked eye; only those who cultivated the soul could detect them.
"The Great Qian Imperial Family is even weaker than we imagined," one of the black-robed men said in a low voice, sounding like a night owl. "Such a vast imperial family, yet they cannot produce even a single Ghost Immortal who has survived a Thunder Tribulation."
"Do not be careless." The other black-robed man had an even deeper voice. "An eight-year-old Human Immortal will not be easy to deal with."
"I know, I know. But he is only an eight-year-old brat. How could he possibly be