More Strikes

"Senior!"

"Elder Wuyue!"

In the Eighth Palace, at the entrance of the white-clothed tent, Chang Yi called out loudly.

"Enter."

A voice came from inside the tent.

Chang Yi immediately opened the curtain and entered.

In the tent, the pure white table and chair wood ornaments emitted a kind of magic power, as if it could completely smooth out the impetuousness in a person's heart.

On the high chair in the Middle Hall, the middle-aged swordsman in a light blue robe was wiping the voice of Lan, the famed Sword Slave, with a towel.

Gou Wuyue raised his head and asked, "What's the matter?"

"It's like this."

Chang Yi felt that his heartbeat had been calmed down, and he heaved a sigh of relief. "The investigative unit sensed the infernal power earlier."

"If nothing unexpected happens, the Saint Servant's second-in-command, Sleeveless, might be nearby to receive them."