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Ordinary cultivators might resort to robbery on the road.
But a group of Emperors? That would be far too humiliating.
Lin Xun swept his gaze over them in silence.
The brightly-clad eighth realm Emperor at the head of the group asked coldly, “Are you from the Ancient Nebula Road?”
“Yes,” Lin Xun replied indifferently.
“Then come with us.” The man in colorful robes spoke with an air of arrogance and his tone seemed to allow no defiance. His gaze was aloof and cold as if he was simply issuing an order.
“Where to?” Lin Xun raised an eyebrow.
A man beside him, dressed in a crimson crane cloak and with skin paler than a woman’s, smiled with a strange feminine charm. “You’ll understand once we arrive.”
Suddenly, the green sparrow on Lin Xun’s shoulder spoke up. “They’re from the number one sect in the White Crow Starfield—Myriad Spirit Divine Mountain. As far as I know, anyone captured by them ends up having their primordial spirits stripped and turned into puppets, with both their will and consciousness gone.
“If you go with them, that’s likely what’s waiting for you.”
The group’s expressions shifted slightly. They clearly hadn’t...
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