The Demon with Holy Radiance

If Yang An hadn’t been completely sure that his emotions and consciousness were stable—and that the Bow Lady hadn’t altered her output of pain—he would have sworn his very perception had been warped.

How else could he explain the sudden disappearance of that massive, dark silhouette?

The masked man in black had made no visible move. He had simply uttered a single word, and the dark silhouette was gone.

Everything fell silent. The only sound was Yang An’s own breathing, thundering in his ears.

The man in black slowly turned to face Yang An, carefully sizing him up.

"I must say, I’ve never seen anyone with your Cultivation Level attain the World Body of a Zombie God, especially one not listed in my Daoist Sect’s records. Tsk, tsk.

However, I am quite curious. Where did you learn the Drumming Technique, a secret art of my Daoist Sect?"

He spoke deliberately, clicking his tongue in amazement.

Although Yang An was currently using his Red Wheel Infinite Body, his entire form radiating a Golden Radiance and possessing immense Physical Power, the man seemed more curious about the unified Curse Seal of the Drumming Technique floating before him.

The Drumming Technique originated from the Earth Spirit Skill inscribed on the Earth Spirit Stele, and the Earth Spirit Stele itself was a legacy of the Earth Immortal Dao Sect. The man wasn’t wrong. Yang An wasn’t surprised he had recognized the Drumming Technique at a glance.

He was now certain this man was a Boundary Repairer from the Earth Immortal Dao Sect. He just hadn’t expected to be targeted, much less found so quickly, and now he had no idea how to explain himself.

He had a premonition: if this man who considered him a World Body captured him, his fate would be a grim one.

’Run?’

The air had become an invisible, viscous mire. Yang An focused all his power onto a single point on the Curse Seal and erupted with force, shattering the binding Technique. He immediately prepared to activate the Light and Shadow Escape Technique.

In an instant, a brilliant light condensed behind him, stretching his shadow to its limit. He was just about to merge with that shadow and make his escape.

The Light and Shadow Escape Technique was incredibly fast; otherwise, it couldn’t cover thousands of meters in a single breath.

But just then, a soft chuckle reached his ear.

The next instant, a finger that looked as if it were carved from white jade landed on Yang An’s shoulder.

The color drained from Yang An’s face the moment he felt that light touch.

In that brief moment, both the elongated shadow and the light behind him retracted back into his body. The Light and Shadow Escape Technique had been forcibly interrupted. His form, which had been on the verge of becoming ethereal to merge with his shadow, snapped back to normal.

A mouthful of dark blood surged up Yang An’s throat. For the first time, he suffered a backlash from his own Technique. His body trembled as if struck by lightning.

The instant the man’s finger landed on him, it was as if all the Mana in his body had frozen, completely beyond his control.

The energy seemed to drain from Yang An’s expression, his face turning deathly pale.

"Now that I’ve found you, don’t even think about escaping. Be a good boy and come back to the Daoist Sect with me."

The man retracted his hand, speaking with a smile.

He was about to clasp his hands behind his back, but he froze mid-motion and looked down at his finger.

On the finger that had just touched Yang An, black spots the size of beans had begun to appear.

Yang An gasped heavily. Blood felt like it was boiling in his airways, trickling from the corner of his mouth. For some reason, his Immortality was repairing the damage from the backlash with excruciating slowness. At the same time, he noticed something was wrong with the man.

The gaze from behind the mask seemed to be lost in thought.

SPLAT!

A moment later, the finger with the black spots fell off at the joint, dissolving into a pool of blood in midair.

A new finger grew back on the man’s palm. The black spots were still there, though there were fewer of them now.

He glanced up at the sky, his gaze seeming to pierce an immense distance to see something far away.

"Time waits for no one..."

He suddenly muttered the cryptic phrase. Immediately after, the hand with the black spots began to tremble violently.

Countless tendrils, like blood vessels, shot out from his wrist. They quickly coiled around the afflicted finger, not stopping until the black spots had slowly faded away.

’Is that the Filth?’

Watching the man’s actions and the black spots on his finger, Yang An, for some reason, suddenly thought of the Filth.

According to legend, in the ancient era of the Origin Realm, Spirit existed first. The Filth was a later arrival, which was why people like the Workshop Master regarded it as a form of pollution.

The signs displayed by the man before him certainly made it look as though he had been polluted.

’Could it be that everything in this Lower Hu exists within that time period?’

The man didn’t know what Yang An was thinking. He casually clasped his hands behind his back and turned his gaze back to Yang An, but this time, he remained silent.

He placed a hand on Yang An, and in an instant, transported them both from midair to the ground below.

Just as they vanished, a black wind tore through the sky, crossing an immense distance in the blink of an eye.

The wind carried a foul, rancid stench. Even on the ground, Yang An could smell it and felt his consciousness instantly grow weary.

"Not going to answer my question? Then you’ll just have to come back to the Daoist Sect with me. You may be a World Body, but you can’t escape from me."

Only after the black wind had passed did the man issue his warning to Yang An.

That single move from before had placed immense pressure on Yang An. He knew it would be nearly impossible to escape.

’This guy is absurdly strong. He’s probably at least at the Insect Dao realm, and a Great Power among Great Powers at that.’