Soon, Song Yan felt a sudden collision of Demon Power and Spiritual Power behind him.
Without even looking back, he instead rode a little of the Spiritual Power storm from the battle behind him and shot far ahead.
How could Little Song dare linger? One extra glance at a battle on this level could cost him his life.
Besides, if those Penglai sages noticed Xiao He's presence, further complications would arise.
At this very moment, many cultivators who had once died on the Penglai Immortal Continent had already re-formed their ghostly spirit bodies.
The same went for the Demon Race.
And so Spiritual Power, Law Treasures, demonic arts, Divine Abilities-the great battle of thousands of years ago played out here once more.
Only after leaving the Spirit Transformation battlefield far behind did Song Yan descend and stop using his airborne Escape Technique.
He completely concealed his presence with the Hidden Sword Spirit-Concealing Art, then used the Soaring Cloud Intent Movement Method to weave through the shadows between mountains and pavilions.
He avoided the battlefields of the Human Race and the demon race as much as possible.
Song Yan stopped for the moment on a high mountain ridge.
He looked around. Across the battlefields, spiritual light blazed and Demon Qi spread.
He felt somewhat embarrassed about disturbing the seniors of both races, but he had had no other choice.
Without those Penglai sages, no one here could have restrained that Qilin.
Song Yan reached up and patted his ear.
"Tsk-I wonder what exactly is going on with this Sword Intent."
He could no longer hear those jumbled sounds, but now that everything had suddenly gone quiet, he found himself imagining them instead, leaving a faint ringing in his ears.
"Neither your eyes nor your ears work very well now," Xiao He