A sense of ambition stirred within Ye Hanjun's heart as he gently plucked the strings of the ancient zither spread out before him.
"Ching!"
The crisp note echoed out, unfortunately drowned by the clamorous war cries on the battlefield, the brief note barely noticeable.
"Swish..."
A slight spatial distortion, Ye Hanjun's body turned completely black, somewhat resembling Ye Qiyu's appearance when fully activating the Eight-eyed Rakshasa.
However, he did not have eight eyes, rather, just one blood-red pupil was opened vertically above his eyebrows.
His slender fingers continued to stroke the strings, lively, somber, ethereal, cold, sharp, low...one note after another, dancing under his fingertips.
"A tune, 'General's Grudge', I bid you to lend an ear!"
"Boom!!"
Ye Qiyu and Ye Mochou, who were fighting against the Mist Head, suddenly stopped.
