As those words were spoken, the hairs on Yang Xiao's back stood on end, and goosebumps rose on his arms. He knew very well that at this critical moment, a Martyr would never joke with him like this.
But what he never expected was that the Ghost hadn't left but was lurking beside him.
This shattered Yang Xiao's understanding of the Ghost Script, filling him with terror.
"Where… where is it?" Cold sweat appeared on his forehead as Yang Xiao glanced around with the corner of his eye.
Although the situation arose suddenly, Yang Xiao didn't lose his composure. Moreover, as a seasoned individual, he was not fighting alone.
In this not-so-large room sat three Netherworld Envoys, giving Yang Xiao immense confidence.
The Martyr didn't answer Yang Xiao; a few seconds later, he shuddered as if his spiritual power had been drained, and leaned back powerlessly against the chair, the eerie blue light in his eyes fading away.
