In the secret chamber, the candle flames flickered, casting a dim and shifting light over the dark gold patterns on the crystal ball. Ye Wuji’s sneer was like a poisoned needle piercing straight into Ye Fan’s ears. The youth’s fingers, hanging by his sides, curled slightly—he could clearly hear his own heartbeat, each thud heavier than the last, yet it was not out of fear. The bloody taste from his fall in his past life was still churning in his memories; in this lifetime, he had long since learned to treat crises as whetstones.
"Senior Mo," Ye Fan murmured, catching from the corner of his eye the bulging veins on the back of Mo Liusu’s hand as he gripped his short blade. That Soul-Breaking Blade was a relic from the former master of the Nether Palace, and right now it was glowing with a deep blue light, like a beast crouching and ready to pounce. The instant their eyes met, a trace of resolute determination flashed in Mo Liusu’s gaze.
Ye Wuji’s footsteps paused, his gaze sweeping over their separated figures as a muffled chuckle came from beneath his mask: "Even when courting death, you still care about formations?" He raised a hand and pressed it against the crystal ball, where the dark red liquid suddenly surged like boiling water. "No matter, though. Once the Taotie swallows your souls, even your dying struggles can be replicated down to the last detail."
Chapter 352