The chilling wind in the underground tunnel swirled with bloodthirsty aura, howling.
Standing on the ritual altar with a flag in hand, Elder Yan, dressed in a purple robe, wore an indifferent expression and had icy cold eyes.
Li Muyang stood beside her, head bowed, quietly observing his surroundings.
Regarding the stunningly beautiful Elder Yan, Li Muyang had always kept a respectful distance and dared not even glance at her too often.
He feared she might notice his concealed strength and pull him out of the crowd, thus exposing his many secrets.
Yet today, being so close to her, Li Muyang was afraid that Elder Yan might discover his hidden abilities.
But the good news was that Elder Yan did not care about Li Muyang.
After all, he was merely an outer sect disciple; in the eyes of such a high-ranking demon practitioner like her, he was no different from an ant.
