An hour later, the golden light on Mo Ling's body gradually faded away, but the aura around him grew three to four times stronger, and black glimmers surged under his skin, devouring the mind.
"Let's go!"
Chu Ming said calmly, leading the group further into the palace.
However, after advancing five hundred meters, Chu Ming suddenly froze.
"What's wrong?"
Mo Ling frowned and asked in confusion. Among them, not only was Chu Ming the strongest, but he was also a swordsman.
A swordsman's perception of everything is usually the most sensitive, incomparable to other martial artists.
"A large amount of White Blood Spirit Stones are flying ahead!"
Chu Ming said sternly. As soon as he spoke, seven or eight beams of red light shot from afar, crushing and bursting the air with terrifying power, and whistling sharply.
