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Two wide sleeves billowed, singing to the clear breeze. Neither man nor demon, neither immortal nor god.
This was the first time that Wang Sheng had channeled a spell for so long. For a full forty-nine days, his spirit remained tightly focused, never once relaxing even a little.
The fiend core merged with Qinglin's Primordial Spirit, which then took complete control of the fiend core. Together, they assisted Qinglin in reconstructing his physical body.
Since he was exclusively a sword cultivator, Wang Sheng found this task challenging.
Fortunately, everything proceeded smoothly.
After forty-nine days, he sat cross-legged in space and could not help yawning. Yaoyun had already returned to the Qiankun Ring to rest and continue recovering spiritual power.
Long Aotian had also regained some strength. He was quietly seated in the distance, healing himself. Binglu sat beside him, occasionally sneaking a glance over but never daring to look for long.
Three meters in front of Wang Sheng stood a tall, slender figure. A faint layer of fiendish qi drifted around him. His eyes were gently closed, as though he were asleep.
After so many days of exhausting effort, Wang Sheng and Yaoyun had seemingly created a fiend spirit—a Heavenly Immortal Realm one, at that.
Qinglin originally was at the peak of the True Immortal Realm. After being refined...
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