High platforms surrounded by mountains on all sides.
On the distant mountaintops, two figures stood in silence, one tall and one short, looking down below.
Clad in simple white robes, with only a delicate cloud pattern at the collar.
Any cultivator from the Nan Hong with a discerning eye would feel their heart skip a beat upon seeing these robes.
The Nan Hong Seven Sons, Ling Yun Sect, the robes of a direct disciple.
The shorter one was a rosy-cheeked youth, whose appearance was quite endearing, though he was somewhat plump, giving off an impression of affluence.
He barely opened his mouth, taking in everything happening below: "Senior Sister Wei, what just happened?"
The youth was merely at the sixth level of the Return to Void, and although he was capable of instantly shattering that red-whiskered, blood-clawed spirit puppet, he certainly couldn't do it as effortlessly.
"..."
The taller girl slightly furrowed her brows, adding a touch of confusion to her lovely face.
