Each to Their Own Battlefield

When Wei Zhongran looked inside the Storage Pouch, he saw a drop of translucent amber liquid.

His Divine Sense had only entered the Storage Pouch for a brief moment, yet he already felt dizzy and slightly drunk. He could sense the terrifying power within the transparent liquid.

Wei Zhongran attached great importance to a protective item bestowed by someone of Gu Jiuqi's level. This was something that could save his life at a critical moment.

He was valiant, but he understood the way of preserving one's life even better.

Above them, Li Yan and the Devil Cultivators were locked in an inseparable melee. Gong Chenying and the other two now regarded Li Yan as nothing short of a heavenly being.

The speed at which Li Yan killed Devil Cultivators was something that perhaps even any two of them combined could not match.

In merely thirty breaths, Li Yan alone had killed four Devil Cultivators, yet he himself had not suffered the slightest injury.

Even while the three of them alternated between joining forces and facing enemies separately, they had only killed six Devil Cultivators. Lin Daqiao had also been wounded beneath his armpit. Though it was not fatal, his stark white ribs were visible, a horrifying sight to behold.

"Has Little Junior Brother been possessed?"

Wei Chi Tuo thought to himself. From time to time, he used the corner of his eye to inspect Li Yan from head to toe, trying to spot some clue.

Have I not cultivated desperately enough?

Lin Daqiao was left speechless. He had escaped death time and again, clawing his way back to life amid bloodshed. Only then had his cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds. He had thought that in just a few years, he would catch up to Fifth Senior Brother and the