Sadly, the dead could no longer say anything.
That puzzled question Liu Dongqing had failed to catch clearly would never receive an answer.
He raised a hand and beckoned.
The Azure Flame Flying Birds filling the sky abruptly winked out.
Along with them, the scorching heat waves that had just crisscrossed so fiercely were swept away by the mountain wind within a few brief breaths, bringing with them the growing chill of autumn.
It was as though everything that had just happened had been a dream.
Yet Liu Dongqing stood where he was.
Having endured such a spectacle for the third time, not the slightest trace of daze showed between his brows.
Unlike his complete lack of preparation when he first faced the Dao Slave, and unlike the unexpectedness of facing his senior sister's open scheme the second time.
At this moment, he faced Fang Jing's death with tranquil indifference.
As though this had been the outcome he had foreseen long ago.
After all, he had inherited two supreme mystic arts of the Demon Refining Mystic Sect, crazily extracted cultivation resources from Zhang Qiwei time and again, and added to that the introductory cultivation art of the Yang Fire Path's Seven Emotions Enter the Flame lineage.
When all of that was piled onto one person, and that person used the initiative in his hands to drag out his cultivation time to the utmost limit.
Then someone who had made such thorough preparations was not here to tussle evenly with his next opponent for half the day, hoping to find a chance at victory through luck.
He had only stepped forth to face all this after becoming certain he held the means to win.
I, Liu, prepared myself to fight someone at the Qi Refining Peak.
*The seventh level of Qi