Volume 1, Chapter 39: Possession by the Demonic Seed

Accompanied by a shrill cry, Du Rufeng was sent flying like a kite with a broken string. A spray of blood misted the air before he crashed heavily to the ground.

This sudden turn of events caught everyone off guard, but Jiang Mu was the first to react, stepping forward to check on Du Rufeng’s condition.

He did so because he had seen Feng Wuqing’s expression; on that delicate face, there was no sign of the expected agony or despair.

Listening to this father and son exchange what could only be described as a completely nonsensical and baffling conversation, Miss An Xiaoxiao was left utterly bewildered.

Long Bingling nodded gently. Her voice remained as melodious as ever, yet after hundreds of years of absence, her cultivation and status had elevated her, bringing a profound change to her temperament; she no longer possessed her former childishness.

She had nearly been abducted once before, but the subordinates of the Abyss had mistaken their target and taken Sheng Ruosi away instead.

The flavor was truly excellent. She had assumed that even if these chefs knew how to prepare Chinese cuisine, it wouldn’t taste this authentic, but it turned out to be unexpectedly delicious.

As the golden needles recovered, the other magical artifacts within the array responded, beginning to consolidate their power to repel the encroaching demonic energy.

With a dry heave, Qin Yibai, feeling an unbearable tightness in his chest, nearly vomited on the street. Chi Long, noticing his strange behavior, suddenly tugged at his sleeve and gestured with his chin toward the other side.

He had only spoken in jest, but to his surprise, the eyes of the large dog before him lit up. Fang Duanchen’s heart skipped a beat—could this yellow-furred dog really possess some kind of treasure?

After being unconscious for half a month, Tang Jiuge finally awoke. His room was packed with people: Old Madam Tang, her personal maid Jinlü, Tang Zhaoyi, Shan Ya, and both Yi Wushang and Guan Yueyue had come to see him.

"They say illness comes like a mountain and leaves like a silken thread," Bai Wangsheng replied hastily. "Especially with chronic conditions, one must take time to recover properly."

Li Qianru and Mayor Niu were both cunning foxes. While they sensed that something was slightly off, they could not fathom any hidden motives behind Chu Mengyao’s words.

Without hesitation, Tong Yan formed a sword gesture with his fingers and struck out, shooting a beam of Five Elements light directly at the Celestial before him.

In the near-freezing room, Dajiang Jinchuan, after fainting for a while, was gradually shocked awake by the cold.

Dugu Huang’s fists were tightly clenched. He was thinking of more than just killing Fan Weili; he was determined to reclaim the Glazed Sword.

"What? Does he intend to threaten my wife?" Chen Feng, now incensed, threw the officer to the ground and prepared to head to the palace to confront Zhu Zhanji.

The black-hearted Taoist nun on Black Dragon Mountain was a prime example of those who used seals to harm others. When Tong Yan had traveled to Black Dragon Mountain, he had suffered greatly at her hands. Although he had successfully killed her, her spirit had managed to escape.

Seeing the score, Milan remained the league leaders, while Inter Milan trailed by six points, temporarily holding second place. With the Rossoneri currently behind in an away game, it would be strange if their cross-town rivals, the Inter fans, weren't feeling pleased.

Logically, they should have sent word to Wei Wuji regarding the arrival of the Sovereign's Envoy, yet in reality, they had failed to do so.

Gao Qian pointed to another stake, and Yi Tian released another arrow. In just a short while, all five wooden stakes were shattered.

Tie Xuan’s expression shifted instantly. He looked back to see the heavily armored soldiers who had received the order, still sitting steadily on their horses, showing no sign of movement.

Who was the Pangu Patriarch? He was a peerless figure who had dominated the primordial age. Could anything passed down by him be inferior?

Yet, he had no power to be picky or choose; stranded in a foreign land, he had no choice but to keep his head down and protect himself.