Darkness seemed to seep into the heart of every living creature. Wild desires they would never have dared entertain in broad daylight now began to stir.
In truth, Black Snake knew perfectly well that his cultivation was far from formidable.
His enemies knew it too. The reason they still hesitated to advance was this vast, surging river.
The Water Ghosts and Walking Corpses they kept were too weak.
They dared not lightly use Yin Spirit Separation to enter the water and fight, either. Injuries to a yin spirit were exceedingly difficult to heal; one careless move could scatter their souls and destroy all their cultivation. Black Snake stayed close alongside the boat, catching a few river fish to fill his belly along the way.
At the bow, River Ash drove his demonic power to its limit. The Little Black Boat cleaved through the river, the dark mountain silhouettes on either bank racing backward.
Black Snake felt that this night was unbearably long, dawn seemingly an eternity away.
At first, he silently counted the hours. Later, he simply stopped counting, because the more anxiously he watched the time, the longer it stretched. Once he stopped caring, it flowed faster instead.
The Heretic Cultivators would not give up here. They were plotting their next, more carefully planned assault.
The little boy still burned with fever, and his parents were utterly exhausted.
The boy's father raised his head and pleaded in a hoarse voice, on the brink of despair.
"Immortal... could you transfer Hu'er's illness to me? Could you give all the years I have left to Hu'er? Please?"
At the bow, River Ash kept his back to them and merely sighed deeply.
Half afloat on the surface, Black Snake remained silent. Perhaps a true Immortal could do that, but he was only