The Soul Hall Master and the Soul Demon Elder saw that Xiao Ze really intended to face all three of them alone. Their brows knitted in unison, though neither dared take him lightly.
The former had witnessed Xiao Ze's terrifying strength after refining the Demonic Flame in the Demonic Flame Space. The latter had even been driven back by the searing heat of the Purifying Lotus Demon Flame. Now, seeing the flames burning around Xiao Ze, he felt as though their heat could burn straight through space.
While the two hesitated, an old figure leaning on a pitch-black cane slowly emerged from behind the Soul Hall ranks, gliding forward like a ghost.
He was as thin as a skeleton, and the gray robe draped over him was creased with age. Yet a strange smile hung on his withered face. Most frightening of all were his eyes.
They were not the least bit cloudy. Instead, a glassy, eerie light shone within them. Wherever his gaze fell, even the air seemed to take on a deathly pallor.
"Hun Qianmo!"
Xiao Chen recognized him first. His grip tightened abruptly around the Blood Axe, and the blade began to hum.
Back when Xiao Xuan had fought the Hun Clan, Hun Qianmo had been one of the clan's chief generals. His Soul Devouring Art had swallowed countless powerful members of the Xiao Tribe. Who would have thought that, a thousand years later, he would still be alive?
"Good heavens, it's Hun Qianmo! They say he should have perished ten thousand years ago. How can he be here?"
A thousand zhang from the mountain peak, a white-haired old monster cried out, his eyes wide with shock. "That old devil is a Seven-Star Dou Saint! He once stood toe-to-toe with Xiao Xuan. Now, with the Soul Hall