Everyone saw the figure within the demonic flames suddenly appear, crouching on the Yellow-Robed Daoist's shoulders.
A pitch-black hand rested on top of the yellow-robed man's head.
The next instant.
Bang!
His head burst apart, splattering red and white matter.
With leisurely ease, the demonic figure fished another round bead out of the yellow-robed man's Dantian and absorbed it completely in the same way.
Everyone was horrified beyond measure.
He was simply slaughtering False Core cultivators and harvesting them like roadside Demon Beasts!
"You-"
Qin Xijun was somewhat dazed. Her disciple seemed to have come back to life.
But now he had no vitality at all and seemed to possess little intelligence. Was this still her disciple, Song Yan?
Yet the demonic figure took a step and appeared a short distance beside Qin Xijun, dipping his head slightly as though nodding in greeting.
Then he actually extended a pitch-black finger toward Qin Feiyu and the other False Core Realm cultivators nearby.
He spoke slowly, his voice hoarse and dry.
"Granny-"
Qin Xijun froze briefly, then joy at regaining what she had lost welled up in her heart.
The boy wasn't dead?
Song Yan's demonic figure continued with difficulty, "Kill-them-"
"I want-that-"
The black hand extended its index finger and thumb, pinching them together to indicate something round.
The golden-white flames around Qin Xijun swayed as immense grief intertwined with wild joy.
In the end, however, they turned into icy murderous intent.
"All right."
She nodded.
All this time, although master and disciple shared a deep bond, Little Song had been very independent. He hardly ever needed her help.
Everyone had their own Dao Path. Perhaps her careless interference would only hinder his growth.
With that attitude and those thoughts, Qin Xijun had always exercised restraint in her guidance, words, and