Lanchi Must Die

Shadow Elder!

When Anfuni mentioned that name again, Li Ziran could not help but freeze.

That imposing image of him leaning against the chair back still flashed through his mind, giving people a peculiar sense of oppression at any moment.

His consciousness sank into the Spirit World. Looking at the Shadow Crescent Moon hanging in the sky, his spiritual power was refined along with the crescent, transforming into a shadowy form.

That crescent moon was constantly purifying his spiritual power, equivalent to a Devouring Curse that remained active at all times.

When he had obtained that crescent moon, Li Ziran had understood that it was a restriction.

If he were Shadow Elder, he certainly would not bestow such a treasure upon others without restraint.

Puppet Mark.

Li Ziran murmured the words softly, not particularly shocked.

No matter what organization it was, those in power would impose certain rules upon their subordinates. The higher the organization's rank, the harsher those restrictions became.

If one enjoyed the benefits, one had to accept the restrictions as well.

Anfuni could not persuade him. At the very least, Shadow Elder's threat was useless. Although Shadow Elder had once made Anfuni serve as a shield, their roles within the Shadow Society were entirely different.

Demon cultivation!

That was what Shadow Elder valued most.

Now, through Anfuni's words, he had finally figured out what Shadow Elder truly wanted from the Demons.

Soul Plasma.

And high-grade Soul Plasma at that.

Looking at Anfuni, he seemed able to see the Elven Magister's urgency. He understood her. Anfuni was right: on the Red Soil Continent, the powerful rise of the Human Race was already encroaching upon the living space of other races.

Compared with the vague and intangible threat of a Demon invasion, preventing the Human Race's expansion was the