Even if her brain wanted her to cry, to go mad, her heart would tell her not to be afraid, not to cry.

So, Yao Yao sat in that dilapidated woodshed, while the family of three outside soared in happiness, she lowered her skinny little face, silently breathing in and out.

Then, she gently opened her palm.

Her bloodline.

Capable of dispelling all demonic obstructions.

Only needing the right moment.

The Enchantress demon lurking in the darkness couldn’t understand this action. Was she doing it because it was too miserable, so she wanted to see her own palmistry?

Just now, he had seen the gray thoughts pulled out from her soul, unexpectedly pure, much more precious than the ordinary people in the illusion.

The demon watched her with interest, ready to give her more despair, and when she could no longer bear it, erase her from the illusion.

She raised her fingertips, filled with rolling black energy, but in the next moment, she shuddered.

The demon’s face suddenly turned pale, as she covered a place on her demonic body that had been cut and torn apart.

This illusion was the manifestation of the demon’s entity, allowing her to sense every situation and every person. But now, the illusion had just been completed for less than half an incense stick’s time.

Someone had broken through the illusion.

She almost knew who it would be without thinking.

But how could that monster, who had never received love and warmth since childhood, not yearn for such a happy and privileged life?

Fortunately, there were no directions in the illusion, or rather, all directions and time were controlled by his mind.

So even if the ancient demon broke through one layer of illusion, he couldn’t find his little girl.

At this moment, the demon couldn’t delve further into the meaning of Yao Yao’s gesture. Waving her hand filled with black energy, she left her with a more intense catalyst, and then hurriedly left the area.

She had to trap the ancient demon in the illusion again, or else…

She would be torn apart.

Chong Yan’s patience was running thin.

His face was getting worse and worse.

Approaching freezing point.

The bone spikes between his arms had already slid out, spreading with ferocious coldness and restlessness.

Encounter one layer of illusion, break through one layer.

He had to find her as soon as possible.

Chong Yan didn’t know what kind of illusion Yao Yao was experiencing now, whether she was scared or sad.

He pondered the divine realm scene he had just encountered and had a vague guess in his heart.

Those people were actually collaborating with the demonic forces.

But this time, the purpose of this illusion is not to weaken him, but to separate him from Yao Yao.

After the Naitian Secret Realm, the Eastern Sea, and the Guanshan Imperial Tomb, the gods must have found something on Yao Yao.

Chong Yan’s expression turned colder as he felt the bone-chilling temperature. He kept confirming her safety.

He swiftly passed by countless people and scenes, suddenly stopping his steps when he passed a small ditch.

“Ugly thing.”

“Ugly monster.”

In the ditch, a small black snake kept wriggling, dodging the stones thrown by other little monsters into the water.

“I’m not, I’m not.”

He cried, insisting that he was not an ugly monster.

He was supposed to be beautiful, to be admired by the masses, to soar in the vast sea, not stuck in this small river ditch.

“Never seen such an ugly snake.”

“Disgusting black scales.”

“Looks like a worm.”

The little black snake was pierced by countless arrows, crying with a knotted tail. But he always felt that someone would notice his beauty and give him shiny things.

But in the water, no one could see his tears.

He wanted to become beautiful, he longed for beauty.

His desire materialized, emitting a dark gray aura, supplying the creator of this illusion.

“…”

Chong Yan fell silent for a moment.

He was now certain of the effect this illusion had on people.

Inversion.

That’s why he saw such hypocritical harmony and warmth.

Yao Yao should be facing now…

Chong Yan thought of something, his pupils turned icy, he gritted his teeth, and turned to leave.

But the black snake, crying uncontrollably, turned into a “black stick” floating on the water’s surface.

As if it had ugly itself to death.

To rot and stink forever here.

Chong Yan closed his eyes for a moment.

Finally, the ancient demon turned around, raised his hand to the “black stick” floated out of the ditch.

Then Chong Yan threw it away.

The black stick penetrated straight into another ditch, and when he opened his eyes again, it was facing an extremely ugly fish.

Chong Yan turned and walked away, leaving the black snake and the ugly creature facing each other.

The Waterdrop Fish.

Its whole body looked like a pool of mucus, with two black bean-like eyes above the huge nose that occupied half of its face. It could be said to be devastatingly ugly.

The black snake suddenly sensed something awakening.

This was the real ugly creature.

Where was he ugly?

After leaving the black stick, Chong Yan was once again trapped in another illusion.

These illusions were not dangerous for him, just annoying.

His icy gaze swept around, and his powerful spiritual sense suddenly emanated.

Something in the air paused, but upon closer inspection, there was no one behaving abnormally.

Everyone was immersed in their own inverted illusions.

Just like that sword cultivator who practiced his sword in the training ground nine thousand times.

He looked like an ordinary person without any talent, with no improvement in his swordsmanship and unable to channel any spiritual energy.

The Yu Ji Sword in Ji Rong’s hand turned into a piece of scrap iron.

The sword spirit couldn’t make a sound.

She could only watch as the exceptionally talented young sword cultivator gradually revealed a desolate expression.

Wake up, wake up!

Power was continuously being drained from the top of his head.

And Ji Rong looked at the ice-cold silent sword in his hand. He wanted to be stronger. He wanted power.

But he had no talent, not even a trace of it.

Ji Rong could only mechanically and clumsily practice his sword technique over and over again until the tip of his sword was easily held by two cold, pale fingers.

Chong Yan looked at him indifferently and only said, “Where is your sister?”

Sister.

Ji Rong’s empty eyes trembled.

In his memories here, his parents had entrusted him to take care of his sister. But with his talent and level, he couldn’t bear his father’s burden or fulfill his mother’s responsibility.

As a sword cultivator at the perfect stage of Nascent Soul, he held his sword and felt that he was too weak.

The illusion demon hid in the darkness, invisible and traceless.

Silently, it embedded another illusion in the sword cultivator’s mind, telling him that the person in front of him is a shortcut to gaining immense power.