The burning temple, the sobbing evening breeze, the brilliant Dao domain, all intertwine with the monks' roar of anger and their cries, drilling into Yi Chen's ears.
With the obstruction of the Mirror Body, the Heavenly Dragon Dignitary sacrificed his life to only delay Yi Chen by a mere incense stick's worth of time, without achieving any breakthrough—merely postponing the destruction of the Great Weide Heavenly Dragon Temple by that brief period.
Yi Chen clutched the black crystal in his palm, feeling the inexhaustible rise of Deep Red Points, and his heart suddenly filled with joy.
The black crystal in his hand reminded him of the Seventh Prince who had died by his hand; this black crystal felt somewhat similar to the demon heart merged with him, yet upon closer examination, it was also strikingly different, profoundly mysterious.
