The fog had grown thick as ink at some unknown point, and the sky had completely entered night.
Streaks of spiritual light shuttled through the void, fleeing and chasing in disorder, like meteors one after another—brilliant, yet tragic.
Although many cultivators possessed the ability to conceal themselves beneath the night.
As long as they had not left the range of the other party's divine sense, whether they hid themselves or not was utterly meaningless.
Thus, even though they were as conspicuous as arrows of light tearing through the air, not a single person bothered with concealment.
"No!" Ye Haicheng watched as the Painting Spirit Race pursuers around him drew closer and closer.
Especially after they had scattered, one of them had actually fixed itself on him, staring with a greedy, yearning gaze that was as dazzling as the blazing sun.
When Ye Haicheng looked more closely, it was clearly that Painting Spirit Race member who had taken over his spiritual puppet. It seemed to have noticed that his divine soul and body were anything but ordinary, and had come chasing to kill him.
Ye Haicheng guessed that the other party probably thought he was the one who had taken the Painting Spirit Race's treasure.
If it were one-on-one, Ye Haicheng would not be afraid.
But right now, the moment he made a move, he would become the target of a thousand arrows.
It might even be because of his concealment that all the Painting Spirit Race would think the treasure was with him!
That was not something he wanted to see.
His gaze swept over the surroundings, and in the next instant, what surprised him was that the cultivator surnamed Zhu was astonishingly fast.
From head to toe, more than a dozen talismans were pasted on him, and in his