Bai Chu's gaze remained calm as Mó Zūn finished speaking.
"There won't be a next time," Bai Chu said flatly. "Mó Zūn, you can't escape today."
For a moment, it truly seemed that way.
Mó Zūn was severely wounded.
The Half-Qilin was crippled.
Most Demonic Cultivators Immortals lay dead or dying.
The battlefield belonged entirely to the Desolate Heaven Empire.
Yet—
Mó Zūn smiled.
It was slow and deeply unsettling.
Bai Chu's pupils shrank.
Too relaxed.
Too assured.
Before Bai Chu could react, a ripple of movement appeared behind Mó Zūn. Figures emerged beside Mó Zūn.
Bai Chu's eyes narrowed.
He didn't sense their presence at all.
(Since when have they been here?)
Bai Chu was surprised by their sudden appearance.
No matter how focused he was fighting Mó Zūn, his sense was always keeping eyes on interference from others.
But he totally didn't sense them until now.
And he also didn't recognize them.
Yet the aura they radiated was unmistakable: Earth Immortal.
