In the high sky, Xiao Yi was flying rapidly with Huoo Linlang.
Huoo Linlang's face was full of reluctance, occasionally casting a scornful look at Xiao Yi, her thoughts unknown.
Suddenly, Xiao Yi's gaze fixed downward.
The entire Mist Mountain Range was completely shrouded in dense fog.
Even as Xiao Yi flew high above, the dense fog still obscured his vision, and the view below was a vast expanse of white.
Yet his sharp eyes remained tightly focused downwards.
Because he clearly perceived that weak breaths were emanating from below.
His perception here had diminished greatly, unable to sense who it was.
However, from below the dense fog, wisps of ethereal aura suddenly drifted up, converging into a mysterious pattern.
"It's the signal from the Demon Hunting Hall." Xiao Yi squinted his eyes.
Swoosh… In a flash, he descended from the high sky.
After setting Huoo Linlang down, in front of him were a dozen or so severely injured Martial Artists.
