A sudden voice sounded by his ear, and the mysterious, sinister black-robed Cultivator was instantly startled. He looked up and saw, in the darkness of night, a pair of eyes bright as blazing stars, gazing at him with deep, unfathomable calm, making him feel as if he were nothing more than an ant.
Terror sprouted from the depths of his heart.
The black-robed Cultivator's hand trembled, his brush slipped, and the Formation he had painstakingly drawn halfway was instantly ruined.
The black-robed Cultivator felt both pained and enraged. He suddenly steadied himself and sensed the aura of the person speaking behind him, discovering that although this aura was strange and abyssal, the Spiritual Power leaking out was weak—actually only Foundation Establishment. His anger flared even higher at once.
"A little Foundation Establishment brat dares ruin my grand affair! Courting death!"
