The middle-aged envoy finally came to his senses.
Clutching his bleeding chest, he truly spun around and roared, "Yao Yulou, you dared attack me? You've actually reached the third realm of the Emperor Martial Stage—you, you... you damned traitor!"
Sikong Jing's entire body shuddered. He raised his eyelids to stare at the sword tip hanging down before him, blood continuously dripping from it, while an unending chill coursed through his body.
No wonder that second voice had sounded so familiar—it was Yao Yulou.
"I'm very sorry, Envoy. I reached the third realm of the Emperor Martial Stage several years ago."
At that moment, Yao Yulou's voice remained refined and gentle. "My lord can ask me to do anything, even take my life. But harming Jiang Wanyou is out of the question. Anyone who wishes to hurt her must die—must die!"
The refined voice grew sharper and sharper, until at last it carried boundless killing intent and unwavering resolve.
The middle-aged envoy had thought he could crush Yao Yulou to death at any moment, yet the latter's strength far exceeded his imagination.
At that moment, the middle-aged envoy stared at Yao Yulou while vomiting blood, then screamed like a madman, "Yao Yulou, you truly are obsessed. What a formidable Demonic Charm Battle Body—you, you... hn?"
All of a sudden, his voice caught in his throat.
Because he had finally noticed Sikong Jing standing beneath the wooden stake, and once again his eyes widened in utter disbelief.
He was incomparably shocked. There really was someone in the damned backyard—the very boy Xiu Hanzhi wanted to take as a disciple. But why had he discovered nothing just now? Why could he not even sense him with his consciousness?
His eyes could see him, yet his consciousness could not sense him. Why?
At that