After absorbing a burst of blood-and-flesh essence, the rampaging power throughout Pang Li's body gradually calmed once more.
His body, which had scattered into a mass of black mist, slowly drew back together, and he returned to his original appearance.
Yet even he failed to notice that the shadow he cast upon the ground was a monster brandishing countless tentacles and arms.
With the aid of that cultivation method and the blood essence he had drawn into himself, the human side of him briefly gained the upper hand again. Yet within his heart remained an obsession with killing Zhang Yu.
This was also something the two Daoists he had devoured had deliberately pushed in secret. At the beginning, he had chosen to draw close to Great Chaos out of hatred and hostility toward Zhang Yu.
This was his sole obsession. Even if he ultimately sank into unconsciousness, he would instinctively seek out trouble with Zhang Yu.
After lingering where he was for a moment, he raised another cloud of black mist and flew directly east of Peace Mountain.
Logically, he had no idea where Zhang Yu had gone. Yet as the thought of pursuing the latter arose in his heart, a voice in the unseen began guiding him. In his dazed state, he followed that voice.
At this very moment, the White Boat had long since crossed Peace Mountain and was speeding toward the depths of the landmass.
Inside the main cabin, Zhang Yu was looking at the scroll painting on the cabin wall.
Over the past few days, there had been no further changes to the painting.
He reached out and stroked it. This object was ancient enough, and it also contained an inexplicable power. By rights, source energy ought to be found within it, yet he did not