Previous chapter:
Chapter 162 Fresh Corpse
Next chapter:
Chapter 164 - Intelligence
PREVIEW
... aintaining its ordinary hue without any hint of transformation.
Lumian sensed an unusual pulsation deep within his soul, as if a distant cry had reached his ethereal essence.
Temporarily unable to respond, he continued to recite the incantation.
“I implore you,
“I beseech to be bestowed the Prophetic Concoction…”
In this ritualistic spell, words like “help create” couldn’t be used. It had to be “bestowed” or “gifted.”
Lumian’s spirit trembled with ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE