The Vermilion Bird was a rather composed divine creature. As it had lived and relived the long stretch of time from the ancient era to the present, its patience was perfectly understandable.

Moreover, the bird didn't know enough about the abilities of its divine opponent. In light of this, it didn't want to make promises it couldn't fulfill.

The Xiahou forefather was desperate to return. He rushed back to the capital with almost suicidal speed.

As he sped along, he frowned. His consciousness and vision tipped him off to a forest of thin, silken threads that scintillated in the light. They covered almost every patch of the nearby empty space.

Though they didn’t look particularly special, the Xiahou forefather felt a pressing sense of danger. Not the lethal kind, but danger nevertheless.

“Has someone set up an ambush for me here?” A scary thought jumped...

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