The Moving Holy Spirit Mountain

Mo Xingtian was weighing his excuses when he caught sight of Yellow Dragon Sovereign's gloomy expression and forcibly swallowed the words at his lips.

He had a strong premonition—if he dared make another excuse, Yellow Dragon Sovereign might very well take his life on the spot.

The Dragon Demon Palace had never been a kind place, and the Sovereigns who ruled it were even more notorious for their ruthlessness. No matter how unwilling he was, he could only lower his head and agree.

Yellow Dragon Sovereign's expression eased slightly before abruptly freezing.

His gaze locked onto the space behind Mo Xingtian.

There, a somewhat carefree-looking young man sat casually atop a dragon-head ornament on the wall of the great hall.

"Almost forgot. There's one more," the young man said lazily. "To prevent news of the 'coordinates' from leaking, you should come with me too."

"Coordinates? What coordinates?" Yellow Dragon Sovereign failed to react at first. Frowning slightly, he asked warily, "And you are...?"

"My name is Hun Zhang." The young man chuckled. "Black Dragon and the others are guests of my clan. Since you're their friend, why not come along as well? Don't be so nervous. I'm not a bad person."

Before Yellow Dragon Sovereign could respond, Hun Zhang impatiently waved his hand. "Forget it. I can't be bothered wasting words."

He reached out with his right hand, and Yellow Dragon Sovereign immediately felt an irresistible force envelop his entire body.

His eyes widened in horror, but he discovered that he could not move even a finger. The spiritual energy within him seemed to have been completely frozen.

The next instant, his vision abruptly twisted. His entire body was dragged into a strange space, with only several square meters of solid ground beneath his feet and chaos all around him.