34. Rambling On

There is a legend in the Demon Fog Forest: deep within its reaches dwells a twelve-star humanoid phantom beast. It is said that her true form is a snake, though no one knows exactly what kind, for no one who has seen her has lived to tell the tale.

It is often said that a fallen phoenix is no better than a chicken, yet despite their status as exiled royals, they remain the legitimate princesses of Brunquia by law. In an era where lineage is supreme, no one would dare deny their nobility.

"Then why wait for a better day? Let's do it today. Since it’s the first day of the interview, I’ll need your help for everything that follows!" Zhuang Qing said with a light laugh.

Henson’s joke filled the training ground with laughter. Vogel, standing nearby, gave Henson a punch in the back, annoyed that the serious atmosphere he had worked so hard to cultivate had been "ruined" by Henson.

It wasn't until someone invented the "living core" device for the suona, enriching its expressive range and allowing the eight-holed instrument to master the twelve-tone system, that the instrument saw further development.

Chen Keji is a renowned cardiovascular surgeon; the number of heart patients he has treated is at least eight hundred, if not a thousand.

Seeing the space open up, Holiday took two steps back. With a rhythmic flair, he executed two between-the-legs dribbles, immediately exploded into a sprint, and cut to the right side of Fields.

Is a bladeless sword ugly? Perhaps everyone has their own opinion, but as far as Chu Yan is concerned, the sect-protecting blade is not ugly at all—in fact, it is exceptionally beautiful.

Xiao Han did not know what the three sages had been discussing. Within Biyou Palace, she saw the legendary Master Tongtian for the first time—a middle-aged man who appeared incredibly majestic.

"Hehe, you have some insight after all. Di Shitian, what are you standing there for? Kill this old bat for me!" the Princess Rakshasa laughed wildly.

Qi Yu nodded slightly, his heart just beginning to think that Yuan Kai might be somewhat reliable, when he heard him muttering quietly to himself.

Yu Cang grasped the fireball that descended from the heavens. It was Skyfire, capable of incinerating everything in existence—the ultimate flame. Yet, he caught it effortlessly with one hand, freezing it into an ice orb. With a gentle exertion of force, the orb shattered, sending countless ice crystals scattering, appearing chillingly cold in the eyes of the Fire God.

Liu Tuo’s mood brightened instantly, thinking that this "Gudong Stone" must be an object of consumption or an innate spiritual item meant for forging physical forms.

The Electric Wind Monkey had completely lost the arrogant bravado it possessed while provoking them earlier. Seeing the surging, rampant killing intent radiating from Liu Tuo, it was terrified into a daze and retreated into the depths of the water.

Blood meridians coursed through the central axis of Liu Xianzhi’s body, erupting in a sudden surge of blood shadows. The shadows surged like a violent, raging tide in mid-air, instantly coalescing into a pair of giant palms that slammed toward Liu Tuo with a wave of blood.

The soldiers who charged forward with the adjutant were wiped out entirely. The remaining adjutant was left alone, retreating again and again.

A deranged saboteur had bound Xiu inside the cockpit of the Kaoruo and rigged the laboratory with massive amounts of explosives, intending to destroy them all together.

To a cultivator, secret manuals and techniques are their very life; to say they are beyond measure in value is no exaggeration. It is no wonder everyone goes mad for them.

Babu looked at Xiao Lin strangely. His accent carried a hint of London, which was impossible for an Indian.

For years, Anya had been forcibly suppressing his emotions, unable to let go. This was the first time he had spoken of it to anyone.

However, "planetary seeding" and "elemental deification" are methods that can be attempted immediately.

A massive flurry of cold light shot toward them, dense and thick, emitting a piercing whistle of wind; it was impossible to tell how many there were.

He would never step in for matters that were inconvenient for him to be involved in; he always left the toughest problems for his subordinates to handle.

Li Dao frowned, staring at the two empty medicine bottles before him. He tapped every last bit of residual powder into his mouth, licking them a dozen times before finally stopping, a helpless expression on his face.

When the people in the camp heard the news, their first reaction was joy. After all, eliminating a major burden that had been weighing on everyone’s hearts was worth celebrating.

In that instant, fury made Luo Fu forget everything—forget calm, forget reason, and lose even the desire to feign indifference or hide his identity.

The Myriad Demon realm was slightly lower in power; they surged forward like a tide, only to retreat like one, constantly being pushed back.

Everyone was clad in sturdy armor, wearing exquisite camouflage gear that was generally of an excellent grade.

Only then did Li Dao notice that the cyan dragon-horse was already riddled with countless arrows, covered in vast wounds that bore the signs of toxic corrosion.

The spiritual energy contained in excellent-grade spring water is, after all, limited, whereas the spiritual substances separated from the spirit swamp pool must be far purer.

"Enter my gate of longing, and you shall know the bitterness of longing." He had never believed in love, but now that he did, he was trapped in a deep, unrequited longing. If he hadn't seen Yun Lan on the verge of death today, he might have insisted on taking her away, only to marry her reluctantly, living as strangers in the same bed, trapped in misery until they became a pair of resentful spouses.

"How else do you pull it? You just fight the bastards!" Wu Ruyi, hearing Li Zicheng ask a question he already knew the answer to, felt his temper flare, tossing all his usual reserve and politeness to the winds.

Shame and anger washed over her, and she immediately covered her eyes. Just as she was debating whether or not to peek, the sound of the youth’s turbid stream began to splash.

As for his previous agreement with the Insect Emperor to bring him Dong Long’s head, he now felt that something was amiss.

Observing Feng Zhongzi on the ground, his form had become somewhat illusory; it appeared that this body was merely a clone, a manifestation condensed from Feng Zhongzi’s wind power.

Tickets for the fashion show had become highly coveted, yet even seeking out scalpers was useless. Because very few tickets were released, no one who obtained one wanted to part with it. Most were personally invited by Dior, with invitations linked to specific individuals, making it impossible for others to impersonate them.

The typically taciturn Tian Xuan spoke up, a rarity: "You are meddling too much." As subordinates, they only needed to follow orders; everything else was the master's business.