Wuzhuang Temple

Several days later.

Yang Jian took Xiaotian Dog and headed northwest all the way.

Above the sea of clouds, the wind howled fiercely.

Xiaotian Dog's injuries had not yet fully recovered, but he never fell even half a step behind.

Though he said nothing, Yang Jian could tell that every time he stepped across the clouds, blood energy surged from the wound on his back.

The Heavenly Demon bloodline was indeed formidable.

Had it been an ordinary member of the Demon Race, after taking a slash from the Green-Faced Demon General across the spine, they likely would have collapsed on the ground long ago.

But Xiaotian Dog had forced himself on through sheer ruthless grit, keeping up with Yang Jian's speed.

Within the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Blade, the Black Flood Dragon Spirit clicked his tongue and said, "Little Xiaotian, if you can't hold on, just say so."

"Master won't laugh at you. At most, this one will laugh at you a couple of times."

Xiaotian Dog said coldly, "Shut up."

The Black Flood Dragon Spirit said, "Hey, you little dog, quite the temper on you."

Xiaotian Dog said, "Call me little dog again, and sooner or later I'll bite you."

The Black Flood Dragon Spirit roared with laughter.

"You'll bite a blade?"

"Don't want your teeth anymore?"

Xiaotian Dog's gaze turned vicious.

Yang Jian said mildly, "If the two of you still have the strength to bicker, you might as well speed up."

The Black Flood Dragon Spirit immediately said, "Master, this little dragon can speed up at any time."

Xiaotian Dog also said in a muffled voice, "So can I."

Yang Jian said no more.

He merely lifted his head and looked toward the end of heaven and earth.

As they continued onward, that desolate, ancient aura at the edge