But Jiang Chen was stubborn. He looked at Su Ming with curious yet untrusting eyes.
All of this was noticed by the soul seed of Demonic Ancestor Mo. Sensing the sudden danger, the bronze ring hanging around Jiang Chen's neck hummed with a crimson glow.
Almost a decade ago, Demonic Ancestor Mo had planted that ring near the mountain range as an ultimate contingency. Imbued with ancient anti-divination seals, the artifact leaked no demonic aura. He, in his soul seed form, had entered a state of profound hibernation, drawing only a tiny trickle of life force and energy from its surroundings to sustain its slumber.
The soul seed only stirred once every few years. Almost a year ago, when it last contacted Chen Wuhen, he had reported that he captured an elder of the Heavenly Cloud Sect and planned to infiltrate the sect from within.
Assuming everything was going according to his plan, the seed had gone back into deep sleep, maintaining only a faint awareness of its surroundings.
