On the Moon.
The middle-aged man held the Eight Desolate Cauldron above his head, his expression somewhat grave.
He hadn't expected that just as he declared sovereignty over the stars beneath him, a white streak of light would come racing towards him at a speed so fast he couldn't even see clearly.
If it weren't for the supreme treasure above his head, he might have died here today.
So the Cauldron Daoist's back was drenched in cold sweat as he forced himself to speak with a cold snort, "Cowardly rat, only knows how to sneak attack in the dark. If you have the guts, face me openly for a battle."
"Today's cultivators, relying on Emperor artifacts, do not recognize the immensity of heaven and earth. They must know that there's always someone stronger."
Accompanied by an icy feminine voice, a white phoenix with nine heads and nine tails soared across the sky, its tail flowing with white flames that burned the space into distortion.
"Clash."
