As it had for hundreds of years, Black Snake dutifully guarded the mountain.
Fighting in primordial spirit form was not just more flexible; it made pursuit easier, and allowed Black Snake to charge straight into the underworld.
That was right. Black Snake intended to launch a frontal assault tonight.
A job had to be done thoroughly. The Ghost King would certainly return shortly, providing the perfect chance to destroy it. Besides, the thunder had drawn many nearby cultivators and demonic beasts to watch. Black Snake would show its ferocity and make every human and demon remember the rules!
Moonlight flowed like water, bathing the Stone Terrace in white. Every gap between the paving stones and every patch of moss stood out clearly.
Everyone inside the temple could clearly see that tiny figure from behind.
Old, short-sleeved clothes of coarse cloth, a child's slightly oversized head, fluffy short hair tied simply atop the head with an old cloth strip whose color was impossible to tell, and a longsword at the waist.
Standing motionless in the moonlight, that tiny figure was far too quiet.
The onlookers first froze, then began whispering among themselves.
No one could explain everything in the cultivation world. Some cultivation methods restored youth; others simply liked traveling the world in a child's guise. All manner of strange appearances were nothing unusual.
"Who is that? Is that the master who used the thunder arts?"
Someone asked in a trembling voice, brimming with excitement.
"It must be! It has to be!"
"The Immortals have blessed us. We're saved..."
Many shouted excitedly, their voices thick with tears.
One cultivator took a deep breath, his knuckles whitening around his sword. He gritted his teeth as he gazed at that tiny figure in the moonlight.
"Our senior stands outside alone. How can we