Not long after Lu Wufei left.
The sky was pitch black.
Two figures rapidly flew from the Western sky.
Very fast.
The two figures reached halfway to the massive palm-shaped imprint on the summit.
One figure was slender, wearing a blue robe, appeared young-looking, had a cold, black face;
The other figure was robust, wearing armor, appeared middle-aged, with a stern face.
Looking at the terrifying palm print, as large as half of the mountain peak below, and feeling the chaos and tumult of the remnant spiritual power in the surrounding area.
The more the middle-aged figure looked, the more alarmed he felt, he couldn't help saying: "My King, this aura..."
The youth with the black face nodded coldly: "You've sensed correctly, not long ago a Demon King bestowed his power here…"
"And a general has died..."
"Can you figure out who the deceased is from their residual aura?"
As the youth with the black face queried, the middle-aged figure immediately said: "King, please wait…"
