Xu Wendong instinctively looked towards the direction of the voice, only to see a large ship over a kilometer long and several tens of meters high rapidly approaching from the north.
A blood-red skull emblem adorned the sails, and even at night, this skull emitted a dark red glow, giving an eerie feeling.
On the deck stood hundreds of cultivators, most of them Mahayana Period Cultivators, along with some powerful Loose Immortals.
Leading them was a middle-aged man with long purple hair and three eyes.
The dark red vertical pupil in the center of his forehead added a touch of wickedness.
"Pang Qiao?"
Upon seeing the three-eyed middle-aged man, Xu Wendong couldn't help but furrow his brows, a hint of seriousness in his eyes.
He had never met Pang Qiao.
However.
His clone had encountered him before and suffered a great loss at his hands.
It was just that.
