The Witch God, imprisoned for three thousand years, has never been idle. Over the years, whether through schemes or straightforward plans, he constantly preserved his power. Even though his power was continuously diminished within the sealed Divine Statue, he always managed to reclaim some elsewhere.
So, even though he has not yet fused his Divine Sense, his power is unquestionable.
"Bald monk, are you going to hand it over or not?"
Hidden within the black robe, Xunyang gritted his teeth and asked Liao Kong.
"You... if you want it, then... take it yourself!"
Liao Kong's face flushed with blood; the Buddhist Dharma was no match for Witchcraft, but he still prided himself as the righteous path, unwilling to retreat even an inch.
"There's something off about Xunyang! His strength seems formidable. He's an Evil God; why doesn't he just kill Liao Kong and seize the Divine Sense?"
Princess Lianchun suddenly felt something was amiss.
