The terrifying pressure suddenly descended as Zhou Yi spoke, and sweat poured down his face, while his legs trembled and he nearly fell to his knees.
Having lived for thousands of years, the strength of the immortals was unparalleled. Their moods, arbitrary and fickle, a single misplaced word could lead to soul disintegration!
The so-called undercover scouts seemed important to the Severing Heaven Sect, but in reality, they were insignificant to the elder ancestors of the immortals.
The mood of the ancestor was what truly mattered!
"Master, please calm your anger, your disciple..."
Zhou Yi's mind, with its 3,600 core perceptions, spun at its limits. Ever since he encountered the Crimson Feather Immortal, he replayed each moment in his head, until a moment of epiphany prompted him to exclaim.
"Master's wife?"
The pressure vanished in an instant, and Crimson Feather Immortal spoke with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
