Chapter Forty-Nine

“I’m not leaving.” Feng Jun’an stood there shamelessly, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a serious expression that seemed more like stubborn defiance.

Yun Xiao was truly defeated by this prince’s shamelessness. From his tone, she sensed a faint but dangerous aura, prompting her to be resolutely cautious. Without hesitation, she flicked her sleeve and turned to leave the room, leaving behind a faint, lingering fragrance.

Though several ice blocks had been placed in the room, the air still felt suffocating. She had no choice but to throw on a coat and step outside for a walk.

Suddenly, a low, deep call came from behind. The three of them turned simultaneously to see Xuan Yuan Rui standing in the courtyard. Upon meeting Yun Xiao’s gaze, he strode toward them with purposeful steps.

“Damn it, I do all the work, and you’re always bossing me around,” Su Dong complained angrily.

“Honestly, I’m sorry. To be frank, I haven’t!” Wukong responded straightforwardly. Over the years, he had focused solely on cultivating his strength rather than honing any particular technique.

The self-proclaimed members of the Illusion Sect noticed something amiss when they saw several enormous figures. The man known as Senior Brother Han frowned and glared at them with an unfriendly gaze. Those behind him immediately grew alert.

The Maple Snow Sword shot out from the sky, heading straight for the pale-faced Frost Rain, the second saint.

Qian Shicai heard the commotion outside but paid it no mind. Such incidents had happened many times before, and he had long since become indifferent.

“Although picking the AP role first might draw attention, you probably won’t be afraid. The Tianyi team’s AP position is mediocre anyway; just take it,” the Sea King said, setting an example.

At that moment, the Celestial Spirit Master was extremely tense. Her previously relaxed heart tightened once more, choking on her words, for her fate now hinged on one sentence from Lü Cheng.

Kneeling on the ground, Yan Li endured the pain radiating from his fingers. His face turned pale from the agony, yet he bore it silently. Beneath his ashen expression flickered a trace of malevolence, which quickly vanished.

“Beast, if you spare him, then come after me instead—I’ll deal with you!” Chen Le stared blankly at Yan Li. If she could rescue Su Ziqian, it would be worth it. She had long since realized that there was no goodwill to be found in Yan Li.

A harsh sizzling noise erupted as the dark energy collided with the light energy, creating a crackling barrier. In an instant, more than a dozen black dragon breaths and the holy light shield vanished into thin air. Thanks to the red-robed priests’ blockade, Hillman III finally completed the final summoning.

At this moment, Xue Mengyan looked on with a mixture of anticipation and excitement at the majestic, mysterious ancient tower steeped in the passage of time. Its crystalline, translucent structure, the dense magical arrays covering its surface, and the enormous nine-pointed star magic circle enveloping the entire Ice Profound Tower—all captivated her utterly.

Thinking of this, Long Zhentian felt as if his fingernails and toenails were being pinched by a spade—an unbearable, nauseating sensation.

“Darling, what should we do about this? The family won’t let it go easily!” He Manzi asked anxiously.

But he was no longer allowed to continue. The distant wail of police sirens reached them. After all, this was a populous area, and the events had been witnessed by many—especially the headless corpse lying in the middle of the road, which only heightened concern.

Chen Zongbai wore a half-understanding expression. Sun Bin did not press further and said, “Our troops are strong and unafraid of Annan’s schemes and ambushes. I’m telling you this as a warning, so you’ll be mentally prepared.”

Xia Han accompanied her mother to busy herself in the kitchen, while Xiao Tianyang sat nervously on the sofa beside Father Xia.

Nearby, the Second Elder Keli expressed deep worry. Hearing this, the others began to persuade him, but Night Tian rejected them outright.

Only after Nangong Yier took a sip of tea and lifted her freckled face did Jun Yichuan suddenly snap awake, startled and confused. The tile he held slipped from his hand and clattered loudly onto the roof—a sharp, piercing sound in the silent midnight.

Those mere thirty seconds had nearly broken Ai Yier’s spirit. The agony was such that even a healthy, robust young man would have faltered, let alone her, nearly costing her half her life.

Ruan Xingguo ignored Alun’s shouts. He knew that since Jiang Wuwei had come, he wouldn’t leave easily. So with a calm expression, he watched Wuwei unblinkingly, a smug smile tugging at his lips, as if envisioning a hundred thousand yuan flowing into his hands.

Though sharing the same master and training together with equal diligence, Chen Ruo and Gao Cheng’s martial arts far surpassed Wang Ping and Xiao Bing, gradually widening the gap. This was likely due to their differing aptitudes, which ultimately determined their prowess.

No one was allowed to slack off. You could walk or crawl, but you couldn’t hide in the mountains waiting for training to finish. Li Jianrui began recalling a joke Liu Handong once told—a true story that made him smile.