There's something strange, there must be something odd about this black miasma!
Yang Zhen's face was a flicker of confusion as he stared at the black mist filling the sky, his expression completely bewildered.
Damn it, I, Sao Saint, am already a practitioner of the Saint Sovereign Realm, you know how impressive that is, right?
It had been so long since he had felt the chill, yet now, amidst the turmoil of the black miasma, he found himself shivering?
Can someone tell me, Sao Saint, what the hell this thing is?
When it came to dangerous things, Yang Zhen never took the lead—he quickly retreated back, hiding behind the Sword Demon, and asked, "Seniors, what exactly is this thing, and why is it so cold?"
The experts of the Saint Sovereign Realm were somewhat better off; those from the Great Saint Realm, like the Lady Young and the Junior Dao Fool, along with Shi Feifei and Liu Ning, had already turned pale, breath visible in the cold air.
