Tian Ze Escapes (3)

To Tian Ze, Ye Qingcang and the others' appearance was practically ghostly.

Silent.

Without a trace.

Before he could react, several people suddenly appeared before his eyes.

It was no exaggeration to say that from Tian Ze's perspective, Ye Qingcang and the others had emerged from thin air without the slightest warning.

However, for Corpse Driving Demon, Flame Lingji, and Hundred Poisons King, the three experts who had followed Ye Qingcang inside, their experience was somewhat better. They had not, like Tian Ze, suddenly seen people appear without any preparation and visibly shuddered, looking absurd and comical while bound in chains. Yet everything they had seen and heard along the way far surpassed Tian Ze's experience. Their shock was not less than his—it was far, far greater.

Could you imagine a hole suddenly appearing in a black iron gate before you, with the iron inside it transformed into water, only for it to turn back into black iron after they passed through, appearing seamless and flawless?

If they cultivated martial arts, then what Ye Qingcang cultivated was immortality.

They used martial arts.

Ye Qingcang used spells.

The two were utterly incomparable; they did not even qualify to be compared.

They had thought Baiyue's secret arts were strange enough.

Gu insects, poisons—

Impossible to guard against.

Impossible to trace.

That was how the people of the Central Plains judged them as well.

They called their sorcery heretical and crooked.

Their insults were even harsher than merely calling it an unorthodox path.

Though they had always refused to admit it before, even if they admitted it now in order to interpret Ye Qingcang's methods, they still could not grasp the principles using their so-called heretical arts.

Forget the principles—they could not even understand the skin and hair of it.

Take the route