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Li Xuanfeng drew his bow once again, the golden bowstring filled with razor-sharp brilliance. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he observed Murong En of the Murong Family clutching his stomach in the distance as a vast cloud of black qi billowed around him.0

The Murong Family possessed many Dao lineages, and Murong En’s cultivation differed distinctly from Murong Wu’s. Instead, he resembled the Maha Murong Xia, his body like assembled mud, dispersing and reforming at will.0

No one knew just how many things his stomach contained. Various scattered dharma artifacts occasionally flew out along with the black qi, sometimes accompanied by black clouds that transformed into human-shaped shadows.0

“He doesn’t seem like a devil cultivator, rather, he resembles a Master Monk...”0

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