Chapter 65

Seeing a flash of fire in the distance and suspecting that the pursuers were closing in, the man in black hurriedly pulled the old Daoist priest up and used his lightness kung fu to flee into the night.

Lin Qianxia’s voice was exceptionally pleasant to the ear. Coupled with a hint of fear, calling his name carried a delicate, sweet nuance.

"There's no time to waste. We need to hurry to South City TV Station to prepare for the variety show," Lin Qianxia instructed her assistant to pack up casually.

However, he had never mentioned this matter to his deputy, Yan Ye; he had only told Qing Shu and instructed him to keep it quiet. After all, the regiment commander hadn't told him directly about this either, which clearly indicated an intention to conceal Fang Yuchen's true identity. But... how on earth did Yan Ye find out?

"Ouch! Young Master! You're hurting me!" Gu Ling'er put on a look of extreme distress, casting a pleading gaze at Long Linfei, who was gripping her arm.

Gathering a dense concentration of spiritual energy, a palm strike was immediately and fiercely launched from Qin Ming's hand.

With a crisp "crack," the air fell into a silence so profound it felt chillingly ominous.

Everything defied legends. The Bridge of Helplessness, the Stone of Three Lifetimes, the Othershore Flowers, and the Road to the Yellow Springs—what presented itself to the four of them was a desolate and ruined landscape. Advancing any further would lead straight to the Ghost Gate.

"Second Senior Brother, you keep putting all the food in Junior Sister Yu'er's bowl; we're going to starve," Nangong Wuhen teased with a pitiful expression.

"Wanting to leave? It's not going to be that easy," shouted Shui Menghan angrily, suddenly thrusting forth a colorful sphere of light from her hand.

The eyes of the statue, which had previously been staring straight ahead, unconsciously shifted at this moment to look at Ye Bai. Countless bizarre eyes from the statues were all fixed upon him.

"There won't be any danger, will there?" Zhou Yu still asked foolishly. Of course, the impression he gave now was that this martial artist was already terrified.

Any form of power requires a foundation to support it. Ling Xiao's physical strength was not yet sufficient to support spiritual power at the late gaseous stage. If he forced a breakthrough, his consciousness would collapse, creating an effect similar to self-detonation. Moreover, the spiritual power within his sea of consciousness had already exceeded its upper limit.

As it turned out, the gust of wind that had attacked Shao Heng moments ago was merely the stray wake of a random attack, not targeted at Shao Heng at all.

Mi Dou looked down below and saw a scene of verdant green. In the unfathomable depths lay a pitch-black abyss, resembling an inferno-like bottomless pit, brimming with a mysterious and dangerous aura.

"Not bad at all!" Ling Xiao swallowed the deep-fried white scorpion in his mouth and praised. If he hadn't known beforehand, he probably wouldn't have been able to tell it was a scorpion.

In an instant, Xiao Nuo felt as though he could freely command these nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine talismans. They seemed to have transformed into an extension of his own soul consciousness, responding as naturally as moving his own arm, perfectly attuned to his thoughts.

"It's not that I won't give it to you, it's that I really don't have any left on me! I swindled this potion from an old friend, and now you've taken every last drop! Anyway, I don't have any more. If you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do." The old village chief spread his hands, stubbornly refusing to give Mo Liu anything more.

The Heavenly Demon of Freedom, manifesting from his heart, surged out through his palm. With a single grab at Taoist Jinyuan, he snatched the memories directly from the other's soul.

"Well then, shall we pick a few to spar with Brother Xin?" Instructor Chen asked tentatively.

Never had he expected that this somewhat crafty Mysterious Bee King would actually be willing to hand such a precious item over to him. It seemed it was truly making a desperate, all-or-nothing gamble, Nie Feng thought with a shock.

The next moment, Yechen's field of vision was filled with an endless rain of arrows. Led by the Grand Elder, the Elven race launched a brutal offensive, determined to execute Yechen on the spot.

With Nie Feng's current strength, he wouldn't even bat an eye if he had to face ten advanced undead mages alone. At the mere thought of those densely packed undead knights, Nie Feng's furrowed brow relaxed. Although the rank of the undead knights wasn't high, Nie Feng understood the adage that "swarms of ants can kill an elephant."

This situation persisted continuously. The members of the Reaper's Paradise kept provoking the Ax Gang in the exact same manner. Anyone who charged out to meet them was instantly gunned down, yet those who chose to stay behind and not fight back would invariably find a portion of their men stealthily subdued and taken away by the members of Reaper's Paradise.

During these days, quite a few scouts from foreign races had arrived within the human territory to investigate the situation. The reason behind this was that the overlords of their respective factions vaguely sensed that a Transcendence Realm powerhouse was once again about to emerge from the human race, forcing them to feel deeply uneasy.

"You!" Jiaqi was also provoked to anger by Yechen's words. Finally, she grabbed Yinqiao abruptly and, amid Yinqiao's startled screams, dragged her along as they flew away. Yechen made no move to stop them.

The bearded man stared at the isolated island in the distance, seemingly lost in a profound memory, standing there in a daze.

Michael had a very clear view of the current situation, and he knew that if he failed to unite the people within the City of Sin, everyone would eventually be purged by the Paris government.

At Mazi Ridge, Zhao Qi was running around frantically, directing the remaining Zhao troops stationed there to hastily pack up their tents and prepare for a retreat. He knew all too well what was about to happen next.

Dong Zuchang thought to himself, "Could I have really mistaken the person?" Yet how could he possibly mistake the fair-skinned, pretty Hu maid standing behind Zhang Yuan? Dong Zuchang flew into a rage; it was precisely because of this fair and beautiful Hu maid that the conflict had erupted in the first place, and Zhang Yuan had kicked him squarely in the chest, a spot that still ached dull and deep.