Chaotic Tomb Mound to the north of the city.
The night was grim, and the north wind howled as if ghosts were crying and wolves were howling, sending shivers down one's spine.
"This Evil Suppressing Sword should be used as little as possible..."
Struggling to stay upright, An Jing buried the Evil Suppressing Sword and then sprinkled snow over it, only leaving after arranging everything properly.
Even though few people came to the Chaotic Tomb Mound, there was no room for the slightest carelessness.
Afterward, he directed the Thousand-Year-Old Black Python back to the bottom of Qinghe Pier.
Although the soul of the Thousand-Year-Old Black Python was gone, its powerful body and inner core still existed, and one day, it could transform into a flood dragon.
Having completed all this, An Jing felt dizzy and blurred vision, as the severe aftereffects of the ghost transformation surged, causing his limbs to weaken and a feeling of drowsiness to wash over him.
