"Such demon beasts—how did the beings of the ancient era manage to eliminate them?" Zhen Yangzi said incredulously.
Fang Lin furrowed his brows, slapped his Nine Palace Bag at his waist, and an ancient spear appeared in his hand.
The moment the ancient spear emerged, the far ancient demon tree below let out an earth-shattering roar that shook their eardrums to the point of pain. If Zhen Yangzi and the others weren't beings of profound cultivation, anyone who hadn't reached the Longevity Realm would likely have their hearts and lungs shattered by that single enraged roar.
Even so, the four of them felt their blood surging violently within, their discomfort palpable.
But Fang Lin discerned something—the raging roar of the far ancient demon tree seemed tinged with fear.
"So it fears the ancient spear in my hand after all?" Fang Lin murmured to himself, his eyes emitting a sharp brilliance.
