Daoist Feng had long heard of the Celestials and was very interested in their ability to die and return to life. Yet for the past several decades, he had been wholly absorbed in refining Blood Seeds and had never had the chance to see them.
He had also heard that there were over a thousand Celestials among the army. But laying hands on his own side would damage morale, and Celestials were no ordinary soldiers. If even one escaped, the matter would be exposed.
He was now receiving cultivation resources from King Xi, so it would not do to openly defy King Xi's wishes. If those Creation Refiners swarmed him, even he would be unable to withstand them. The pride of cultivators had long been ground away over the centuries by the Hao Clan's endless wars of sect destruction and school eradication.
In truth, the warfront had originally been his favorite place. He had arrived full of excitement, only to be told that he could merely confront the Upper Layer powers on the other side. He was forbidden from going out and could not freely seize souls and spirits. This left him deeply disappointed. He could only use his banners to gather a little scattered blood qi and spirituality from the wreckage, barely better than nothing.
But now that he had been ordered to go, there would be several thousand Celestials, along with over ten million living beings and blood spirits, all for him to claim. He could gain something from this, while also fulfilling an idea he had harbored for a long time.
Still, having made it this far, he was extremely vigilant. After making inquiries, he learned that someone had previously vanished without a sound while heading to the Sleeping Foothills. His eyes narrowed. No wonder King Xi