He had promised to let them out, but if they were contaminated by the Blood Moon after their release and became a threat, they would be difficult to deal with.
Yang Yong could not make up his mind and kept hesitating.
After leaving the ancient tomb, he had never intended to go back inside before reaching a decision.
Now the dark shadow on the Back Mountain had been dealt with.
Yang Yong wanted to return to the village, but his steps suddenly stopped.
Something was wrong.
That plume of black smoke on the Back Mountain was rising straight up.
The Earth Dragon did not know how to light a fire.
The Earth Dragon could not possibly have lit a fire.
Yang Yong slowly turned his gaze toward the Back Mountain.
His nostrils flared...
Besides the smell of soil and rotting leaves, there was a faint trace of something scorched in the air.
That particular acrid smell of burning firewood.
Someone else was on the Back Mountain.
Yang Yong abruptly flashed away.
The heat of the Ten-Thousand-Forged Primordial Furnace erupted beneath his feet, scorching the surrounding air until it warped.
He had already appeared where the black smoke rose from the Back Mountain.
The sight made his pupils contract sharply.
A fire crackled, its orange-red flames dancing in the dusk and licking at several ears of corn propped above it.
The corn kernels had roasted slightly black, their edges curling and giving off a toasted aroma.
Someone sat beside the fire.
He was so thin that his body had lost its shape, his shoulder blades jutting beneath his clothes like two blunt knives.
His cheekbones protruded, his eyes were sunken, his face was waxen yellow, and his lips were dry, cracked, and peeling.
Zhao Hu.
That burly man of the [Berserker