The Ghost Market was as bustling as ever, filled with moving shadows and flickering candlelight.
The last time he came, his Cultivation was too low—he was only in the Qi Gathering Realm. He hadn't dared to look around too much, simply finding what he needed and leaving in a hurry, afraid of being robbed and killed.
This time, however, he had more confidence. After landing at the entrance to the Ghost Market, he walked in unhurriedly.
In an instant, he felt numerous gazes sweep over him. Seeing his calm and leisurely demeanor, they all retracted.
Poisons, Weapons, ores, medicinal herbs—all sorts of miscellaneous items were available.
Basically, anything a Martial Artist could possibly need was there.
At one stall, he saw a plum-sized piece of ore that looked like a type of Spirit Iron he had seen at the Purple Sun Sect, but he wasn't sure and didn't go up to ask.
