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A Breezy Wind swept by, and a dense stench of decay filled the air, turning this space into something akin to the Chaos Burial Mounds, the smell of death pervading the entire area.
An elderly man appeared here, his hair snowy white, dressed in black garments, his face gaunt and etched with ferocious wrinkles. He was hunched over, his eyes dim and lifeless, like an old man on the brink of the grave.
"Greetings to the Elder!"
The two figures in black robes looked at the old man and suddenly knelt halfway to the ground, respectfully calling out to him.
Xiao Yifeng looked at the black-clothed elder, his brow slightly furrowed; this elder also gave him a feeling of unfathomable depth that was disconcerting.
This was unquestionably a master more terrifying than the Master of Tang Sect, but it was unclear who would be stronger between him and the Presiding Elder of the Witch God Temple. If this person was powerful, then both the Miao Clan and he might be in danger today.
