Chapter Forty-Four: The Teaser Becomes the Teased

The two junior master and disciple walking to the left admired the scenery as they went. Lately, whenever they left the mountain, it was always with others; rare were the moments they had to themselves, aside from the hours spent sleeping.

"In just two or three days, it will be the Ice River Festival. I wonder if my new clothes are finished," the junior master remarked, choosing a light and inconsequential topic.

Hearing this, Mingshuang recalled the recent trip to buy fabric and order new clothes from the tailor. He glanced up and down at his junior master, whose white robes fluttered in the breeze. "Honestly, I think you look splendid just as you are," he replied.

His junior master had cultivated immortality for so long and seldom traveled beyond the mountain. Day after day, he was absorbed in his practice, so his wardrobe contained only the standard white robes of the Jade Gate Sect.

As for Ling Xiaozi, despite his reputation as a gentleman of the immortal sect—

The soldiers opened fire with a fierce barrage, machine guns spitting tongues of flame, yet such bullets had little effect on the Fallen Angel squad.

Sun Wukong and his companions pushed through layer upon layer of sand, suffocating for a long while before they could finally breathe again. When they opened their eyes, they found themselves in a gloomy, shadowed space, and the scene below so terrified them that their souls seemed to scatter.

Chu Jun had no real grudge against Bald-headed Brother Dong; moments before, their conflict had been nothing more than words. The reason for Chu Jun’s ruthless command was simply because of Bald-head's identity.

Wang Guocheng choked up several times as he spoke, especially when mentioning the hundreds of comrades aboard the "Gaosheng." As the ship was sinking and death was imminent, they still fired their rifles until the end, some smashing their heads in rage and despair.

"Brother, I haven't asked your name yet," said Cangqiong, his face marked with black lines, as he stepped forward to take over from Liang Yan and shook Chen Yu's hand.

"If you don't mind, would you come and serve me?" The words sounded almost like a plea, despite the obvious nobility of the speaker.

"Stand down!" the Patriarch Bodhi shouted sternly. Six Ears glanced at Sun Wukong, then had no choice but to step aside.

A million demons rose to their feet as one, gripping their weapons tightly. The Bull Demon King, Sun Wukong, and the Great Roc stood at the very front, facing the denizens of the demon realm. Without a word, the three turned and flew into the Southern Heavenly Gate.

Gao Jianfei's inner strength was formidable, scarcely inferior to Ashui's. When their powers clashed, Gao Jianfei was forced back several steps, his arms aching unbearably with pain. Ashui, too, was left numb in the arms and, for a short time, unable to lift them again.

What was most remarkable about this hand-drawn map was that it marked the locations and levels of various monsters in each region—a perfect tool. With such a detailed map, Shakya believed his chances of survival had greatly increased.

His voice was hoarse, as deep as the lowest note of a zither, yet laced with a chilling cold that made one's heart tremble. Yun Suyu, catching sight of several people entering the door, could only cooperate with him for the time being.

On the rocks by the sea, the whole squad charged, thinking the time had come to seize the place in the chaos.

Once everything was out in the open, things became easier to handle. If they truly wanted to go pro, skill was paramount. The first step was to hire a coach—someone from within the industry, ideally.

Li Manyi used his formidable spiritual sense to control the flames spilling forth, guiding them into the fine grooves. The fire seemed little in quantity, but with the slightest effort, it could reduce an entire forest to ashes.

"How are your injuries? What are you doing here, and who came with you?" Qin Ziheng asked again and again, his face full of concern.

That monk, from beginning to end, only ever wanted to survive. But Yang Jiong could never allow it. If the monk lived, Yang Jiong would die in a few days. With over ten monks in the Buddhist realm, his aid could slowly wear down and destroy the dozens of immortals.

As soon as he got in the car, Lin Han noticed that the interior had been extensively modified: all the seats were brand new, and the driver’s console sported the latest equipment.

While some factions had arenas at home, there were none at the front lines. After all, with war ongoing, every tribe poured its resources into building armies and cultivating fields—who, like the humans, would waste time and money on gambling?

A cold smile curled across Lin Han’s lips as he parted the tangle of brambles ahead and stepped through. The path ended abruptly; a sheer cliff lay at his feet.