Three days later.
Zhang Xiaohao dressed himself, entered the rear hall, and with a wave of his hand, removed all restrictions in the room. Then, with a pat on his waist, he retrieved a set of array flags and arranged them around the room. After completing these tasks, Zhang Xiaohao sat cross-legged on the bed.
With a flip of his hand, a blob of blood appeared in his palm—royal blood obtained from Zha Muzhen.
As soon as the blob of royal blood appeared, it emanated a powerful and violent aura, resonating with the surrounding space, producing a series of crackling sounds.
"Such pure blood, but it's still not enough! It needs further refinement!" Zhang Xiaohao's eyes flashed as he suppressed the impulse to refine it immediately and said.
He pointed with one hand, and the blob of royal blood floated in the air. With a flip of his right hand, a golden flame appeared in his palm.
"Go—!" Zhang Xiaohao growled quietly.
