As a thief, slipping up and taking a loss was common enough.

After all, as the old saying goes, you cannot look only at the thief eating meat; you must also look at the times the thief takes a beating.

The God of Thieves must have steeled himself for that.

But now the threat of the Track Master God had truly struck at his lifeline.

Once this portion of his divine sense was absorbed by Elder Yuehua, it would mean that from this day forth there would be two Gods of Thieves in the world.

And then...

These were all demons. Each possessed powerful demonic qi, yet they seemed to be illusory beings, like ghosts—only they were far more terrifying than ghosts, and the demonic qi they bore could defile a person's heart all the more.

The instant the blood sprayed forth, Nangong Chilei used something—none could tell what—to turn the fresh blood directly into a sky full of blood mist; thereupon the mist seemed to be guided by something, and the spiritual qi of heaven and earth was drawn toward it in an instant.

The moment Mu Cheng'en stepped inside, he felt a piercing gaze fix upon him. That gaze was too overbearing, and it made Mu Cheng'en sense the presence of danger.

Amid a cool, clear voice, a phantom-blue fire phoenix appeared directly before everyone's eyes.

Mo Wushang's clothes had already come loose from the passion of moments before, and in her haste to leave she had not had time to set them right; now, with Su Jingmo's further struggling, they slipped open even wider, revealing her exquisite collarbone.

Her whole body was soft, leaning against Ming Ye like boneless cotton, gasping in great breaths, greedily trying to fill her body with air.

Having said that, Ying Xuan paid no heed to whether the other was willing or not, and dragged them straight into his own room.

Shi Tian still employed that death-defying style of fighting—not because everything here was illusory and he had no fear of death, but because in reality he was a zombie whose body felt no pain, and so he had simply grown used to fighting this way.

The voice pierced straight into Ying Ke's heart; his heart began to pound violently, and a restless unease took hold within him.

Although Fengrong soldiers were being killed atop the walls without cease, there were still Fengrong warriors who, heedless of life and death, desperately leaped up onto the ramparts.

Roars and the sound of collisions rang out without end; the qilin, though its body was covered in wounds, still rammed the golden pagoda like one gone mad.

"This poor Daoist has cultivated for over eight hundred years and has seen no few youth-preserving arts, but one like yours, fellow Daoist, that injures the bloodline and harms the dao foundation—that is rare indeed. Might I ask whether it is a mystery art of the Profound Gate?" Once host and guest were seated, Meng Tinghuai asked curiously.

Lin Bufan and his party set out at first light, and by the afternoon they had finally reached the vicinity of the Zhonghe Safe Zone.

Lu Zhao had been watching the interview with full concentration, but the phone in his pocket would not stop buzzing.

Perhaps because a man who has lost face always wants to win it back, and just now Xu Qingyu's attention was no longer on him—this was the perfect moment to strike at her.

Emerald turf covered the entire viewing platform; ahead lay the best vantage point for looking down over all of Z City, with no trees to block the view.

Su Mu glanced at the guards standing on either side. If she revealed that Old Master Jiang had been poisoned, they would likely silence her the very next second.

Before long, a talisman lit up on the empty gate of the Tianchi Sect. Perceiving that permission had been granted, Swallowing-Clouds True Lord at once leaped through.

He had chosen to come to North America precisely in order to carve out a career for himself in this land that later generations would call God's gift.

Su Ran tightened the arm she had wrapped around Hui's neck; because of their position, her chin happened to rest upon its solid shoulder.

"Don't say it, don't say any more..." 'Hua' Yueman suddenly felt that talking with Si Muran was itself a labor of strength; her head was in a knot now, and her body had gone as limp as a puddle of mud.

He found the equipment, put an ordinary first-aid kit on Qiu Yihan, and armed himself to the teeth; dozens of kilograms weighed on him with no effect at all—most people could never be as formidable as he was.