Before the Yellow Springs Stele, Yao Ming paced back and forth along the edge of the altar like an ant on a hot pan, his face full of anxiety. He stared fixedly at the ancient stele that had remained silent for ten thousand years, his heart in turmoil.
Lord Han Feng had been inside the stele's hidden realm for far longer than usual, yet there had not been the slightest movement within.
Back then, merely touching the stele with his spiritual sense had left him severely injured by that vast soul pressure. This only made him more worried.
That was the remnant soul left behind by the Yellow Springs Demon Saint. Even after tens of thousands of years, it was not something an ordinary expert could contend with.
What if... what if something had happened to Lord Han Feng inside...
Just as he was frantic with worry and about to step forward to investigate.
Buzz—!
The Yellow Springs Stele, silent for ten thousand years, suddenly erupted with dazzling golden light!
A somewhat illusory azure soul stepped out of the radiant stele. Swift as lightning, it quickly returned to its place and merged into Han Feng's seated body below.
Pfft!
Han Feng's body trembled violently, and he spat out a mouthful of blood onto the bluestone altar before him. His handsome face turned pale at once.
"Lord!"
Yao Ming's expression changed drastically. He hurried forward, only to stop abruptly three feet away from Han Feng. His outstretched hand froze in midair; he wanted to support him but did not dare, afraid of disturbing him.
Han Feng raised a hand and waved at Yao Ming, signaling that he was fine. He slowly opened his eyes. Though exhaustion lingered in them, stars seemed to gleam in their depths.
After forcefully enduring the Yellow