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Li Yanchu’s face darkened; the thick, choking miasma of resentment and blood rising from the mountain told him just how many lives had been slaughtered here.
A place like this… and no one’s dealt with it? He gave a cold snort, killing intent flashing in his eyes.
Following the trail of the densest demonic aura, he soon reached the heart of Mount Hong, where a hideous-looking demon soldier stepped out from the shadows with a spear in hand.
“Where did this Daoist come from?” the creature barked. “How dare you trespass on Mount Hong!”
There were two types of shape-shifting demons: one who relied on illusion and transformation, and one who had truly attained a human form through cultivation, a feat that required immense luck and special techniques. This small demon was clearly the former.
Li Yanchu’s expression stayed cold; he didn’t bother answering.
One after another, more than a dozen brutish demon soldiers appeared,...
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