The Mystery

The cold and piercing murderous Qi approached their backs with the feeling of impending crisis. It was like sharp needles piercing the skin one by one, shuddering the nerves all over their bodies.

It was an impending crisis of death full of desperation. They would probably vanish like smoke in the next minute, disappearing from the world. 

Who could stay calm in the face of death?

King Xianlan was only about 90 meters behind Zhang Ruochen. The blood Qi given out by him had condensed into dozens of skeletons, making a cracking noise.

King Xianlan now was like the Death from Hell, who had the lives of Zhang Ruochen and the Saint Lady in hand.

Zhang Ruochen's forehead was covered with big droplets of sweat. He lowered his legs and stepped into the rock with a crack.

He restrained himself to give a sudden turn. He operated the spatial Qi to chop behind him. 

The space of dozens of metes in diameter took a violent quake.