At this moment, no one cowered back! Xu Yangyi faintly smiled and looked at everyone. “And how about all of you?”

“Of course we’ll follow you to the end, Commander.” Quan Ningyue’s hair was tied into two pigtails. “Cultivators cultivate to contest fate against the heavens. What’s there to be scared of?”

Zhan Twelve answered even more succinctly, “I am accustomed to danger.”

Xu Yangyi’s gaze finally fell on Fang Cheng who was yawning.

“What the heck are you lookin’ at me for?” Fang Cheng rubbed his eyes. “I’ll naturally go wherever you go. Master-Ancestor threw me over to you. You want to toss me away, too?” 

“Very good.” Xu Yangyi stowed his gaze and snapped his fingers. A one-square-meter-sized light screen appeared above his head. His gaze burned brightly as it briefly swept over a flashing red dot. “This time, our objective is here.”

The light screen was a scarlet-colored surface. On it, there were countless white, blue, and black lines strangely intersecting to form a splendid picture, a naturally supreme craft of the gods.

However, as this picture appeared, no one even laughed! Even Fang Cheng’s hazy eyes suddenly twinkled. He gravely studied the surface. There was no one that didn’t recognize this image...

In China’s cultivation world, its name was too resounding… One of the Eight Great Deadlands, Longsu’s...