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The black panther stepped out from the shadows. Its fur was sleek and pitch-black, gleaming with a cold luster, without a single blemish in sight.
Around its neck hung a golden ring, though it didn’t resemble an astra.
The panther blocked the entrance of the stone chamber. Its gaze swept over the two figures waiting in tight formation, laced with a mocking amusement.
It carried itself with ease, showing not the slightest regard for Qin Sang, Wandering Man, or the flying yaksha. It looked at them the way one would look at a handful of toys.
For a demonic beast at the middle stage of the Demonic Core Realm, Fake Core Realm cultivators were not worth mentioning. Even the strongest among them, the flying yaksha, could be slain at will.
"Shadow Devouring Panther!"
Wandering Man’s eyes turned cold. A grim expression appeared beneath his mask as he warned, "The Shadow Devouring...
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