Hoo~
Another gust of cold wind sweeps past, bringing a bone-chilling chill.
The stele standing before the ancient temple, drained of all its spirit by the peach blossom, instantly turns to dust under the breath of this cold wind, scattering with the breeze.
Accompanying the cold wind, comes a dozen unrestrained torrents of overwhelming aura.
Leading these is an aura as powerful as that of an Eighth Realm cultivator, speeding swiftly.
Almost the moment Lu Qingshan sensed the fluctuation of the aura, its figure had appeared within the view of him and Mo Yan.
A black whirlwind swept across the entire heavens, exuding a terrifying aura.
Within the eye of the whirlwind, cold eyes look down disdainfully, shadows appear, startling the heart.
A "young man" dressed in a white robe slowly reveals his figure within the whirlwind.
