After leading the ghost army forward for more than a hundred li, Yan Chihuo halted. Yin-Yang Rakshasa and the other ghosts had worked with Yan Chihuo for a long time and knew that his next move would be to sneak ahead and launch a surprise attack, so they cast concealment spells and hid themselves.
Yet this time, Yan Chihuo was in no hurry to move forward. He too concealed himself and gazed into the distance. What Yin-Yang Rakshasa had said made sense, but the appearance of an enemy ghost army was, after all, an unusual development. Yan Chihuo had no choice but to be cautious.
Back when he had been an assassin, the most important thing had been prudence. When he had first entered the trade, a senior figure in the assassin world had told him: being careful ten thousand times over was no problem, but one moment of carelessness could cost him his life.
Since entering the cultivation world, much of his experience as an assassin had lost its use and been cast to the back of his mind. Yet this one saying had remained firmly etched in his heart.
Yan Chihuo used his Spiritual Eye to observe for a long while, then listened with his Spiritual Ear for quite some time before finally determining that there were no other formidable demon ghosts in this ghost army. Only then did he transform into a gust of yin wind and vanish.
Yan Chihuo's Spiritual Eye and Spiritual Ear could not be concealed from demon ghosts of the same rank, but no one knew that he possessed the Innate Seventy-Two Transformations. As for how he could close in on an enemy without their notice, no one knew the reason—not even the demon ghosts who died by his hand, who perished in