"Y-you son of a bitch, I'm going to—"
Beifeng's words died in his throat as Qingyi's boot came crashing down on his skull with a wet, sickening thud.
Qingyi didn't even glance back at the body. Beifeng wasn't worth a single thought anymore, much less the luxury of prolonged torture.
All of his attention was now focused on the words of that demonic cultivator.
[Be careful with this guy. He's a celestial emperor concealing his cultivation level, a servant of that woman for at least a few million years.
Among the demonic race, he must be only weaker than the Heavenly Demon himself.
The Heavenly Demon was—and probably still is—nothing more than a fly compared to the Primordial Demon Empress at the height of her power, before she was poisoned.]
Auranys's voice echoed in Qingyi's mind.
She had already crossed swords with that demon before, during the bloody war between the cultivators and the followers of the Celestial Father.
