"Talking about hitting a ghost wall, my ass— we're cultivators, even if there were ghosts, we'd kill them!"
Huang He turned back and slapped the speaker on the head, swearing discontentedly.
"We must have strayed into some kind of Formation!"
Gently waving his folding fan, the Poison Son looked around and spoke softly.
"A Formation? Is there a way out?"
Huang He slightly furrowed his brows.
"I'll give it a try, though it's still hard to say. I've also seen descriptions about Formations in the sect's texts!"
The Poison Son shook his head gently, not very confident.
After so many years of turmoil, many things in cultivator sects had already been lost.
Nowadays, probably only those who specialized in studying Formations, like the Break Formation Sect, would have a decent understanding of them!
Hearing the Poison Son's words, Huang He was also at a loss.
As for Formations, he knew nothing at all!
