"An artifact for concealment? Its grade didn't seem quite right."
The Black Dragon's body curled slightly as streams of watery light surged and contracted inward, transforming him into a young man with a towering seven-foot frame. A thread of puzzlement gathered between brows steeped in violent savagery.
"Young Master, though the Northern Marchmount lineage is formidable, it has ultimately fallen into decline..."
A third-rank cultivator following the Black Dragon stepped forward and began explaining softly, but before he could finish, the young man seized him by the neck and gave a light shake, snapping off his head. "You don't need to tell me any of this. I know it very well. Were you so eager to tell me because you wanted to show how clever you were, or because you wanted to highlight how foolish I, Ao Zhanmeng, am?"
As he spoke, Ao Zhanmeng looked back at the bronze mirror and muttered inwardly.
Although the Northern Marchmount Emperor had stood at the peak of the eighth rank and was the most promising figure in this world to forge a ninth-rank artifact, no matter how great his power or how deep his foundations, once defeated, all that strength would vanish like smoke and clouds. His imperial consort and imperial sons fled in all directions. Even with a concealment artifact protecting them, after so many years, problems should have emerged.
At this thought, Ao Zhanmeng felt his chances of seizing the artifact increase by several degrees.
He silently chanted an incantation, driving the mirror light on the bronze mirror into continuous motion.
This bronze mirror had originally been an artifact refined by a fifth-rank cultivator. Yet because that man had accidentally glimpsed some of Ao Zhanmeng's secrets, he had been skinned and boned alive, fused into the artifact, and turned into a