Inside the stone hall behind the bronze giant gate, the air abruptly froze into ice. Hēifēng's scar-crossed face appeared exceptionally ferocious under the illumination of the dim blue runes. Behind him, twelve men in black dispersed like night owls, the drops of blood on their short blades hitting the ground and splashing tiny red dots across the blue stone slabs.
The instant Ye Fan stowed the Jiuxiao Huanpei into his Inner World, a warm tremor pulsed from the depths of his Sea of Consciousness—the lingering resonance of his past life's natal divine artifact echoing with his soul. The fingers hanging at his side curled slightly, and the Power of the Heavenly Dao within his Inner World circulated like a living creature, extrapolating Hēifēng and the others' breathing rhythms, muscle tension, and even the volatilization speed of the poison on their short blades into a clear stream of data that condensed into golden light in his eyes.
"Young Master Ye is in high spirits." Hēifēng licked the corner of his mouth, twirling his short blade in his palm. "Lord Zhao said you've taken something you shouldn't have."
Chapter 79