Accompanying Zhong Shenxiu's dalliance with idleness, the second Black Mountain Small Meeting soon approached.
Black Wind Ridge.
Crow Elder, attaching his consciousness to a paper crow, gazed up at the full moon in the sky and felt somewhat of a headache coming on.
Although these attendees were the same as usual, he sensed an impending storm and had to strengthen his precautions.
For instance, around the canyon, there were paper effigies on patrol.
These paper effigies, personally crafted by him, looked nearly as tall as ordinary people but were as thin as cicada wings, appearing as if they could be carried away by a gust of wind.
Yet it was precisely these paper soldiers, each moving with swift agility, their movements as sharp as a knife's edge.
Especially since Crow Elder had reached the realm of ingesting the eighth Yang, this paper-cutting art was Yang Gang Skill!
