"No, we need to go farther. I still feel this place isn't safe."
Suddenly, the old man's brows rose, and he immediately grabbed his young disciple, intending to flee.
"Oh? Mingren, who rose to fame in a single battle, is running away already?"
All at once, an utterly cold voice rang out.
The voice came from every direction, leaving the old man unable to sense its exact location.
"Which fellow Daoist is this? Please reveal yourself so we may speak."
The old man's expression changed drastically. He looked around in panic, but the next moment, he abruptly raised his head. A figure clad in a blood-red robe was walking toward him step by step.
The aura radiating from this person struck terror into his heart.
The moment he saw Ye Lin's face, he turned and ran. He knew that face far too well—wasn't this the mission target?
If the mission target had come here, then there was only one possibility: the mission had failed.
If he did not run now, then when would he?
"Run? Can you get away?"
Ye Lin sneered and slowly raised a hand. In an instant, his domain descended, and the three of them vanished from the dense forest.
"What is this place?"
The old man stared around him in shock. This was a blood-red space. Dozens of spheres of light floated in the distant sky, and the power contained within every one of them made his mind tremble.
The next moment, Ye Lin appeared before him.
His young disciple had long since clutched his arm, trembling all over. He was only at the Mahayana stage, yet the aura filling this place made his soul shudder, and an indescribable terror rose within his heart.
"This will be your graveyard."
Ye Lin spoke slowly, then, without hesitation,