Yang Yong sat cross-legged at the edge of the high-rise rooftop, continuously reciting the ancient cultivation art.
Every syllable that rolled from his throat carried a rhythm beyond an ordinary person's understanding...
Once.
Then again.
The words of the art rolled between his lips and teeth faster and faster.
The endless supernatural power within Yang Yong began using his body as a conduit, surging wildly into the Nine Nether Bone Armor.
Clack, clack...
Clack, clack, clack...
The Nine Nether Bone Armor began to brighten rapidly.
It was not the reflective sheen of metal, but a phosphorescence that only a living thing awakening would emit.
Deathly pale and cold, like those creatures of the deep sea that could not bear the light, dragged into the sun for the first time.
An intricate rune slowly lit up on the surface of the bone armor.
Then...
A second.
A third.
It was as though an invisible carving knife were engraving those runes into the bone armor, bit by bit.
The sound of the blade scraping across bone was fine and shrill.
Like fingernails scraping a blackboard, it made the scalp crawl.
The runes formed slowly, so slowly that Yang Yong could clearly feel every stroke being carved into the bone armor...
That sensation traveled straight into his nerve endings.
It was as though the knife were carving not the bone armor, but his bones.
Bit.
By bit.
They kept taking shape.
Kept lighting up.
At the very instant those runes lit up...
Hundreds of miles away.
Deep within an imperial palace's military camp.
Corpse Ancestor Jiang Chen, dressed in a suit, suddenly frowned.
He had just raised a glass of blood wine, its liquid leaving dark red tear tracks along the glass.
But just as the glass was about to touch his lips,