Compared to Wei Ling's brazen and utterly unrestrained sinister gloom, the old man who claimed to be the second sword master of the Nine Nether Gathering Shriek Divine Sword exuded a completely different aura.
He was like a deep, unfathomable abyss of darkness; within its pitch-black waters, an extreme terror lay hidden.
"To use such a method to delay the decline of your vitality, Elder, you are truly quite creative."
With his hands clasped behind his back, Qi Xiu observed Wei Changhen before him and spoke indifferently. The entity known as the Golden Crow, a ten-thousand-foot crimson halo, hovered about. Its boundless masculine energy transformed into a golden-red wheel of light that hung behind his head, ready to sweep across the universe at a moment's notice.
