Cold Night Tribe

"Wait here. I'll go find the chief..."

In his daze, Mo Ling seemed to hear a hoarse voice.

It was a very peculiar language, like the roar of some beast. Yet the moment he heard it, Mo Ling felt a sense of familiarity.

"It's the language of the Dark Race."

Mo Ling recognized it immediately.

"Where exactly did those guys send me...?"

It seemed that the coordinate system formed by that spear had sent him to an unknown place.

At the thought of that spear, Mo Ling's heart suddenly trembled. His blood vessels began to wave, twisting and swaying through the air as they rapidly pushed the surrounding darkness toward the center. Gradually, they actually condensed into a black spear in midair!

It was the very spear that had been embedded in the coordinate system. After Mo Ling fell into the coordinate system, the spear had followed him and burrowed into the heart atop his head.

Inside the spear, pitch-black patterns kept spinning. If he listened closely, he could even hear faint rustling sounds from within, like a group of people talking, though he could not make out what they were saying.

The black spear floated within the encirclement of Mo Ling's blood vessels, as though it had become part of his body.

Mo Ling straightened up, stretched out his forelimb, and gripped the spear.

The instant he grasped it, the patterns inside the spear abruptly stopped spinning, and the murmuring voices came to a sudden halt. The shadows on the spear shaft suddenly extended toward Mo Ling.

Then, the hard spear actually transformed into a mass of soft shadow and burrowed into Mo Ling's hand. With a casual swing, the shadow became a massive arm, tipped with sharp black claws. Carried by momentum, those claws slammed viciously into the