Chapter 118

116、The End Gong (1/2)

The End Gong sect contains many factions.

For example, Ku Mountain Sect, Mei Mountain Sect, Yuan Huang Sect, Hei Mountain Sect—all are distinct factions within the End Gong sect.

Each faction venerates a different ancestral master, yet the Three Saints always occupy the highest position on the altar.

The Three Saints are the Great Lord of Ten Thousand Skies, the Pure and Clear River Lord of the Nine Earths, and the Divine Physician of Marvelous Healing and Salvation, commonly abbreviated as Lord of the River, Lord of the Earth, and the Divine Physician.

She was embarrassed; Cheng Yitian placed her beneath a tree, propping her against the thick trunk, then took off his outer robe and covered her with it.

“You…” Theodora was speechless with anger at Landon’s words; she finally let out a cold snort and said nothing more.

Li Yijie suddenly shoved her away, leapt to his feet, rolled several somersaults on the ground, clenched one fist while extending the other palm horizontally, then kicked and punched, but his two hands’ movements clashed instead of coordinating, each restraining the other tightly.

Huang’s voice was vast and majestic, bypassing all broadcasts to blanket the entire Earth, echoing across all directions; wherever it reached, black clouds obscured the sun and moon, and no natural light could be seen from any angle on the planet.

The attendant Hua Juewu tidied the table for the Commandant and refilled the wine. She handed the cup to Hua Yiyang, who lifted his eyelids to glance at it; Hua Juewu met his gaze steadily.

Clearly, the Yin Fire Demon corpses from which the Yan crystals had been extracted were discarded by the candidates. For the candidates, only the Yan crystals held value; the Yin Fire Demon corpses were worthless.

To be honest, Dongfang Jun, having lived two lives, was a madman who loved alcohol; when he first arrived in this world, he secretly had a drink—but still found it disappointing, as the winemaking techniques here were terribly crude.

After leaving Yicheng, arriving at Huarong, reuniting with Hua Shuxuan, then coming to Yuezhou, Hua Shuqi, who had enjoyed only a month of freedom, once again fell into a state of low status and contempt.

The Yellow Turban Warriors’ skin seemed coated with tanned oxhide; a regular sergeant’s forceful slash could barely break the surface, and the blood that oozed out was less than a mouthful of saliva.

“This couldn’t have rotted into this state in just a few years.” Landon walked over and swept his hand across the table, intending to examine the dust—but an even more shocking sight appeared immediately.

As he spoke, a dark shadow drifted across the river; Thomas had never seen true “Death,” only heard of it from Afimile.

It turned out that Gu Yu had secretly transported me to Nangong Longxiao’s chambers and told him the full story. Nangong Longxiao merely played along, waiting to see who else was targeting me.

“I should be thanking you!” Xuan Fei said, her face filled with shame. The Phoenix clan members, taken aback, bowed in astonishment.

Was there really no one outside? Ximen wondered, then thought further—had something happened outside? He quickly called Cheng Yang, but Cheng Yang’s phone went unanswered, the line always emitting a busy tone.

“Shit.” Lü Qingyang cursed, bit his lip, gritted his teeth, glanced in the rearview mirror, adjusted the steering wheel, slammed the gearshift into reverse, and slammed the car’s rear end into the vehicle behind him.

Yamamoto Akaki let out a bestial roar of agony; his body began to transform, becoming monstrous—horns sprouted from his head, wings grew from his back.

Seeing the threatening and increasingly angry WeChat message, Jian Jianan could easily picture Gu Mocheng’s grim expression as he typed it.

Cheng Yang sat at the table, staring at the person before him; Mo Li brought over coffee and placed it on the table.