Not far away, Wei Wuji was covered in blood. He covered his chest with one hand and coughed softly. He held his sword with the other hand and protected Yi Li behind him. Yi Li's body was covered in blood, and it was obvious that she had been severely injured. The sky-devouring underworld God was beside her, but his body was blurry and his spiritual power was exhausted. He could be forcibly recalled into the blood soul contract at any time.
Six middle-aged men in Black battle armors surrounded them. Each of them had a cold and cruel expression on their faces, and their killing intent surged.
"Little girl, as a member of the spirit race, you're quite talented to be able to cultivate a martial technique to such a level. Seeing that it wasn't easy for you to cultivate, I won't take your life. If you leave now, I, night kill, can still let you live." The leader, a tall man, said to Meng Luo in a sinister voice. It was obvious that he was a little afraid of her.
