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Ling Yimo hovered above the dragon's chest cavity, skin as pale as porcelain and body seemingly weightless and without bone.
Her flowing white dress was adorned with mysterious sigils on its hem, each in shades of blue and purple.
As the hem of her dress fluttered in the air, the blue and purple sigils seemed to move with it as if spectral phantoms inhabited them.
Pointing to the thick ice, she explained, "Underneath the dragon's ribcage are ancient characters buried beneath a layer of frost. I'd like you to draw out the cold energy from within the ice so the ancient characters can emerge undamaged.
"I could shatter the frost myself, but I worry it'll damage them."
Pang Jian gently nodded.
When the girl from the Ghost Sacrifice Sect gazed at him, he felt strangely like she could see right through his thoughts.
Pang Jian's mind raced as he realized that Ling Yimo's blood essence was remarkably low—so low, in fact, that it resembled an ordinary cultivator in the Marrow Cleansing Realm.
This indicated that the Ghost Sacrifice Sect prodigy had hardly tempered her body...
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