White Iron Island.
The once-bustling marketplace was now a field of rubble and ruins.
Collapsed buildings soaked in the water, covered in dark green moss.
Small demonic beasts occasionally scurried through the gloomy remains of the marketplace.
However, the island possessed a second-tier Spirit Vein cultivated by the Qi Family.
After all, it was still a better place to recover from injuries than a deserted island.
On the outskirts of the marketplace ruins.
In a stone meditation chamber.
Bai Xiuying, dressed in tight-fitting clothes, leaned against the wall outside the chamber, her flying sword cradled in her arms. Her eyes scanned her surroundings vigilantly.
Suddenly, her eyes lit up as if she had heard something.
"Mr. Sikong?"
Bai Xiuying turned around as the restrictive wards on the chamber opened.
Inside.
Sikong Xin sat cross-legged, his face pale. Arcs of electricity occasionally flashed across his body, making him look like a divine being.
