At this moment, Chu Hao's condition had fully recovered to his peak, but he wanted to keep a trump card up his sleeve, using this opportunity to draw out those with ill intentions.
Thus, Chu Hao circulated his True Qi, causing his complexion to appear extremely pale.
"Who are you?"
Chu Hao coughed, his face a picture of helplessness.
The man saw Chu Hao's pale face and felt a surge of joy. The battle yesterday had been intense; it was impossible for Chu Hao to emerge unscathed. To the discerning eye, it was clear that Chu Hao was forcing his body to keep going. He really must have expended a lot of energy or was possibly injured.
The man in the windbreaker sneered and said, "I know you're hurt. Stop pretending. Hand over the Ghost Sutras."
This person raised ghosts and was obviously of the Heretic Path. He didn't want the True Word Brush or the Emperor's Yellow Seal, only the Ghost Sutras.
Chu Hao shook his head and said, "The Ghost Sutras aren't with me."
