The Heavenly realm cultivator felt the wind whip past his ears as he raced through the canopy, every tree he passed a blur of green and gold. Blood trailed from his wounds, painting streaks across his chest, but he ignored the pain. He had taken the blow. He—a cultivator of the Heavenly Realm—had been wounded by a cultivator in the Mortal realm.
"That Qi… it was unnatural," he growled to himself. "Dark. Corrupt. What kind of heretical technique was that?" recalling the black lightning slashes he dodged.
Xiao Fang's power wasn't just impressive—it was dangerous. The kind of danger that couldn't be left unchecked.
'That beast was only a step away from the Heavenly realm. And that spear certainly wasn't ordinary…' he thought as he felt the sting of the injury it left on him.
It wasn't just his pride that had been wounded. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became: if left alone, that boy would become a calamity.
