Extra Chapter 3

Moreover, the cooldown for both skills is short, only three minutes, and with the extraordinary effect of the White Jade set, which halves cooldown times, the two skills now require only a minute and a half to reset.

“You did this!” Ye Xunhuan’s gaze instantly sharpened, and his eyes toward the Monarch were full of hostility.

When the Crown Prince of the Golden Crow appeared once again on the continent, Hou Yi sensed it immediately. At this point, Hou Yi was no longer in a rush, but calmly carried on with his preparations.

“Zhichai, what’s wrong with you? Are you ill?” Zhao Feng frowned. They’d barely exchanged a few words, yet Xi Zhong had already coughed several times.

“Hey, what are you doing? Are you so crazy that you want everyone to know you’ve come in? You lunatic, hurry and run—if my father arrives, you’ll have no chance to escape.” Ao Lengyu was baffled by Bai Kun’s sudden and ostentatious behavior.

Su Canghai finally spoke, after a long silence spent observing. By now, he had some understanding—the thing before them feared no attack, whether divine power or human might, which only accelerated changes that were bound to happen.

Sun Mingtao, with a square face and dusky skin, was sturdy and reliable, naturally becoming the leader among them. Yet in Wang Ning’s eyes, Sun Mingtao was merely a figurehead; behind him, she suspected the shadow of the Maitreya Sect.

Since Ye Xunhuan returned to Huaxia, he had never provoked anyone, but plenty had sought to trouble him.

The voice belonged to the last person, making one wonder who he truly was, what his words implied, and what he was doing; as for that demon, what was its true nature?

Now, seeing Qin Shao’s chest gush blood, Qi Shao felt even more certain there was no need to oppose Tang Ye. Since it was Saint Tang who had intervened, this was as far as they could go.

His beautiful eyes brimmed with boundless affection—serious and persistent, revealing not a fleeting flirtation, nor a childish prank, but genuine feeling from the heart.

Looking at the other seven passages, Ye Xiaofeng was tempted to explore each one and investigate what lay within.

A shrill screech of brakes sounded, and a black sedan stopped right in front of Gu Xixi, its bumper barely ten centimeters from her toes.

“Isn’t it thanks to your cheap senior brother? He said you ought to toughen up, and I thought that made sense—the prettiest flower in a greenhouse still lacks the resilience born from wind and rain. And look, you came back in one piece.” The old man spoke righteously.

What secret does Lu Xia carry? Why send her to a place she could never return from? Why not simply kill her outright?

I had no patience for further argument with her, so I turned to look at Lu Xudong, waiting for his decision.

I said nothing, just struggled to breathe, my abdominal wound aching fiercely with each deep breath. Unable to help myself, I let out a low moan.

Yet the Wu Tribe spoke without hesitation—such was their true character, and they were a people well worth befriending.

Grave pretended not to notice her deliberate avoidance, continuing to chat and laugh, but refrained from coming any closer.

The faith energy spat out by it now looked far more refined than before, its purity clearly improved.

His entire body burned with black-red flames, like a demonic god emerging from the inferno. He stretched out one hand, as if a terrifying mountain was pressing down.

Still, with the deep foundations of the Saint Tiger Sect, it was clear not just anyone could bully them.

Even in life, Yin Xianfeng was a powerful Soul Painter. If he wanted money, it would have been simple, but he chose poverty, preferring not to be disturbed by worldly affairs.

Now, with Tang Dandan pushing her mother out for a stroll, Wu Gang trusted Tang Dandan even more. Among all the people he met during his internship, she was the only one he could really rely on.

“Director~” Wang Xiujuan said coyly as she dressed, making Chu Xinyao retch in disgust.

Though it was awkward, Wu Gang decided to tell Qin Meijia exactly what Jiang Xingyan had planned for her last night, omitting only the matter of the midnight public account. He knew that even if he mentioned it, Qin Meijia wouldn’t believe him.

“General, Marquis Li’s personal guard requests an audience.” At that moment, a security officer approached, unable to look at Nalan Yanran directly, though his eyes burned with admiration.

Li Xiayun’s body was flung two meters through the air, crashing heavily to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

He came to a spot near the big tree, his hands weaving mysterious paths, true energy dancing at his fingertips. The spiritual energy of the land surged wildly, a fierce wind rising from the earth.

“Fortune favors the bold. If death is all there is, so be it. Let the ghost corpses come!” Princess Qiu Tong declared.

Now, this was the heart of the cemetery. Luo Tian had come to investigate the origins of the Holy Academy, so naturally, he would not waste time here with Su Zetian, Hua Lingyue, and the others.

“Don’t touch me with your filthy hands!” Jing Hua’s voice was icy as she staggered away, walking quickly despite her unsteady steps.

Blood sacrifice, as the name suggests, means offering up lives to destroy some special arrangement.

That man looked at Vitruvius in silent misery, his eyes full of confusion, pain, and a touch of gratitude.

Jing Hua faced him coldly. Tang Huai and Jing Xuan sensed the tension between their gazes.

Ye Chong, meanwhile, needed to kill as many enemies as possible—the higher their rank, the greater the merit he would earn after the battle, making promotion almost effortless.