They instinctively turned toward the direction from which the streak of light had come.
On the distant horizon, a stern-faced young man in black robes hovered silently, holding a short rod wreathed in black qi and bloodlight.
A complex, powerful aura radiated from him.
Within it lay the tranquility of the Dao, the compassion of the Buddha, and the domineering might of the Demon Sect.
Three utterly different forces had somehow merged perfectly within him.
"Xiao Fan!"
Li Xiaoyu and Lu Xueqi stared at the familiar yet strange figure and cried out in unison.
Their eyes were filled with shock and joy.
They had never imagined that the close friend who had gone his separate way would choose to appear here at this moment.
The newcomer was none other than Ghost Li—Zhang Xiaofan!
Ghost Li did not answer them.
His gaze was fixed on the hundred-zhang-tall figure.
His eyes brimmed with fury and murderous intent.
The Soul-Devouring Magic Rod in his hand seemed to sense its master's feelings as well.
The baleful qi and Buddhist radiance around the rod had reached a perfect balance.
"You deserve to die!"
Ghost Li glared at the gigantic figure.
His voice was hoarse and icy, filled with a hatred that cut to the bone.
Ghost Li had never imagined that the woman he loved so deeply would nearly become the sacrifice that brought this monster into the world.
He could not forgive it. He never would.
"Roar!"
Ghost Li let out a roar that sounded nothing like a human cry, unleashing without reserve the cultivation he had forged by merging the Buddhist, Daoist, and demonic ways within him.
The Soul-Devouring Magic Rod in his hand erupted in brilliant black light.
Ghost Li became a streak of pitch-black light and charged toward the hundred-zhang-tall figure.