It was as if Xiao Mo had become the master of this world.
He could appear anywhere he pleased. His figure, like a ghost or a phantom, was impossible to track.
Under Wangxin's gaze, the Cultivators in the sky exploded one after another, turning into clouds of scarlet mist like brilliant fireworks.
In Xiao Mo's hands, their lives were as fragile as grass, snuffed out at will. Even their struggles seemed futile.
Meanwhile, the Blood Evil Qi coiling around Xiao Mo grew ever thicker, and his eyes turned a deeper shade of red.
BOOM!
With a dull thud, the long blade in Xiao Mo's hand shattered a Magical Artifact and plunged straight into a Peak Master's chest, then lifted him high into the air.
A Jade Token hung from the man's waist, clearly engraved with the words "Hundred Ghosts Peak Master".
Xiao Mo stared at him, his tone unnervingly calm. "Do you know Qian Zhenhao?"
