Another wave of coldness swept through, blowing across the mountains.
The grass and trees on the ground seemed to be covered in a thin layer of black frost, glistening under the sun like many black gemstones.
The old village chief, sitting cross-legged on the ground, suddenly tightened his expression, his body stiffening.
Although he had previously spoken with calmness, displaying a willingness to die, the fear deep in his heart could not be dispelled when the moment arrived.
"Hmm?" Song Changming turned his head to look.
On a high point of the mountain, a figure had somehow appeared unnoticed.
This figure lacked the normal vitality and aura, like his elder brothers, resembling a silent corpse, and had avoided his spiritual perception in the first instance in the sinister wind.
He looked over, and the other person also glanced back, locking eyes with him.
