Dark clouds gradually covered the moon and the surroundings became pitch-black.
Even the burial song slowly didn't dare to disturb the scene and hurriedly left the venue. The quiet mountain peak seemed to be tainted by an oppressive aura.
This lasted until a mournful wail filled with sharpness tore through the night and the silence.
Everyone's hearts skipped a beat.
Xu Qing opened his eyes.
He saw figures whistling up from all directions. Their target was none other than the cultivators who had obtained the lizard skins during the day. A massacre had erupted.
Xu Qing didn't pay attention to the cultivators who were attacking the other three parties who had obtained the lizard molt. He stared at the seven figures rushing toward him.
The hazy moonlight couldn't hide the cold glint in Xu Qing's eyes. The dim night couldn't dispel the killing intent in his expression. Almost at the instant these figures arrived, Xu Qing moved.