The sand arrow was fired just at the right moment, blending into the natural gust carrying grains of sand forward. Its color was the same murky yellow, and who among cultivators could be expected to pay attention to the perpetual flurry of sand here? Who would notice a few grains moving in an odd trajectory within the Flying Sand Formation? It naturally bypassed the Rose Hall guards leading the way and nearly eluded everyone here, swiftly heading for Elder He's pure white garment.
Two feet, one foot, now only half a foot away...
Someone's lips curled up, secretly. Then followed:
