The crimson thread, the unique aura, the way he moved. But seeing it, seeing him standing there, unmasked, his blood-red hair and eyes blazing for all to see, sent a fresh wave of grief and terror through her. Her breath hitched, a silent sob trapped in her throat. Jian.
Grand Elder Mo stared, his ancient eyes widening further, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips. "It cannot be…" he whispered, his voice hoarse, utterly disbelieving. The youthful face, the crimson Qi that now subtly emanated from him, the terrifying aura… it all coalesced into an impossible, horrifying truth. He truly has returned.
Ling Tian, however, was in a league of his own. He stared at Jian, his handsome face contorted in a mixture of disbelief, terror, and incandescent fury. He remembered the face, the weak, pa
