The Great Grandmaster of the Mysterious Dark Sect mused that this being was nothing
but a rooster with phoenix in his name.
He wouldn't say this out loud, of course.
In the next moment, the Great Grandmaster of the Mysterious Dark Sect thought that
the Dark Phoenix would lose the Cultivation accumulated over one thousand years if he
was to give up a feather of his life force; that was why he had mentioned what the
Immortal had promised.
The horse-drawn carriage left the ground crack, heading toward the east of the barren
land. The bone flute rang out again; but it sounded considerably more cheerful, rather
than depressing.
The Dark Phoenix squatted atop the carriage; his long tail dangled behind the carriage
fluttering with the wind, looking like a ponytail of the carriage.
His shrieking voice echoed in the wind as well.
"Immortal, you have to do something about it."