Chapter 135: The Reappearance of Ancient Scripts

In the dark, desolate Cold River, a point of light was growing larger. Up close, it proved to be a block of solid ice drifting with the current. Frozen within it was a human figure—Luo Hao.

Yet his mind was destined to remain far from calm. The enormous skull that had just struck the surface of the ice clearly belonged to some unknown ancient demon beast.

Though it had been submerged in the river for who knew how many years, and relentlessly scoured by the power of the Nine Yin, the skull still retained a terrifying aura of slaughter.

For a moment, Luo Hao’s entire body shook violently, as though countless steel needles had pierced deep into his flesh.

“Where does this Cold River actually flow? How could it have appeared in the Inverted Yin-Yang Five-Elements Heaven...”

“Ananda, what are you doing?” Seeing what her son was about to do, Jiang Fang hurried forward, her hairpin undone and her hair disheveled, and seized his hand to stop him.

A shrill sound rang out from the shadows. My blade collided with his dagger once more. Just as Watanabe Tsuna had dealt with my attack moments earlier, this time I accelerated my assault and parried his blows.

Additional effect: When attacked, there is a ten percent chance of triggering the Blood Moon effect, inflicting a mist upon the attacker and depriving them of sight for three seconds.

“Hmph. Who knows what kind of father he is? His child was born, and he was nowhere to be found...” Ignoring her elder sister’s remonstrance, Jiang Xia said indignantly.

Watching Xiao Bing and Cheng Xiao clown around, the members of the Central Plains team exchanged glances and unconsciously smiled before raising their guns and sweeping fire across the swarming insectoid creatures.

“I’m begging you—give me the clothes. This really isn’t proper. If word gets out, you’ll become a laughingstock.” Qin Feng began pleading helplessly.

Qin Feng shook his head without saying a word. He wanted to see what these people intended to do, what they were capable of, and whether they dared to kill him in front of his own eyes to silence him.

A steady stream of energy flowed into the dragon egg with my blood. The egg began to tremble violently, and a series of sounds came from within.

How could Qin Feng not understand this principle? But this was the aftermath of a struggle for power. On the surface, it seemed that several experts had been inserted into the matter, yet that did not necessarily mean they were of any use.

With that, he grabbed Red Boy and rushed into the Gu Demon Sect’s already battered and ruinous building.

Though he was nearly ninety years old, the old man was neither deaf nor blind. His back remained straight, and his hair was white, though he had grown extremely thin and his skin had lost its luster.

Long Xuan nodded, unable to keep from smiling inwardly. This murderous aura, steeped in bloodlust, was simply too fierce. Even he found it difficult to endure, let alone Long Thirteen, whose strength was inferior to his own.

Mu Feng was looking around in confusion, and the clever Ji Yue immediately understood what he was thinking. She, too, began carefully examining the structure above them. Suddenly, she noticed a protruding stone slab in the middle of what remained behind the fortress. From the way it looked, the slab seemed almost to be floating there.

Long Xuan assumed he had come to resolve the matter concerning Leng Ruobing. “I nearly forgot about that. Couldn’t you have simply made a phone call? Why come all this way in person?” Moments earlier, he had boasted so grandly about the authority of the Dragon Soul. If even something like this required a personal visit, wouldn’t he be exhausted to death?

This was an extremely serious problem. In the past, even when the people he sent to follow Whitebeard from a distance were discovered, Whitebeard had never taken the initiative to eliminate them. But now he had learned that everyone he had dispatched to watch Whitebeard, as well as those sent into Whitebeard’s territory, had vanished without a trace. This left the marshal trembling with fear.

What they did not know was that the head chef in the kitchen had already exploded—not merely losing his temper, but racing toward Kizaru’s quarters with terror written across his face.

After washing his face with cold water, Mu Feng felt much more awake. What puzzled him was the terrible state of his own mind. Could someone have done something to him the previous night? Had they drugged him with some kind of sleeping potion that sharply weakened his strength and spirit?

In theory, an open portal should have appeared at this point. Yet after waiting for some time, the eight-colored formation membrane remained intact. The immortal formation had not opened.