Hearing this, a cold smile twisted Ji Hongdong’s lips. Suddenly, Meng Hao’s right hand tightened. A popping sound could be heard, and Ji Hongdong’s eyes went wide. His neck was smashed into nothing; the power of the Blood Immortal which coursed through Meng Hao’s hand, suddenly poured into Ji Hongdong’s body. He trembled, and his body immediately began to wither. All the blood in his body congealed into his forehead; a mark of blood appeared, congealing into a collection of the bloodline of the Ji Clan, which suddenly flew out into the air!
The blood merged into the forehead of the mask that Meng Hao wore. The mask rippled, as if it were excited. Meng Hao loosened his grip, dropping Ji Hongdong’s remains.
He closed his eyes, then lifted his right hand to remove the mask. When it came off, it revealed how pale Meng Hao’s face was. The power of the mask was shocking. Were Meng Hao’s Spiritual Sense not as powerful as it was, then he would never have been able to maintain control of his own mind.
In the short period that he had wielded the power of the mask, he realized that he had lost half of a sixty-year cycle of longevity.
The price of wearing the mask was extremely high.
Meng Hao turned to Xu Qing, his face pale. Biting down on his lip, he softly said, “We’re safe now. No one will know your secret.”