Overwhelming demonic qi neared the Daoist Temple, bearing down from above with a terror-inducing pressure that targeted the Sect Leader of Mount Shu and all the Elders within.
The dilapidated Daoist Temple shook violently, the moss-covered stone walls cracked further, and the dry well collapsed.
The Elders of Mount Shu quickly circulated their cultivation techniques to counter the pressure, their Daoist robes billowing without wind.
Two disciples hid behind Lu Changsheng, even the usually active Lian was now quiet, her little face somewhat pale.
She recognized the aura of the Demon Race that hunted her five years earlier.
Mo Huazhi, having just finished cultivating, had never seen such commotion and was even paler.
Fortunately, hiding behind her master, she felt a vague sense of security.
Her master was incredibly calm, showing not a hint of panic.
Indeed, her master was a peerless great figure.
