Shff! Shff!

Wu Jun's demon soul might not be able to bring out the full strength of this Anchor-Stone.

But even so, its speed was still far greater than that of the other three great demons at the twelfth layer of Return-to-Void, proof enough of how terribly thick its bloodline was.

More important still, an Anchor-Stone is a demon in its fullest prime.

These three turtle army great generals who had appeared, by contrast, were all old acquaintances, and all long since in their decline.

In an instant Wu Jun had overtaken the two figures ahead.

It sprang violently up, the gold veins over it spreading out once more, giving off a subtle air, like shield-plate that nothing could break, and barred the pair of them.

“You two uncles — do you not see your nephew? Where are you off to in such a scramble?”

Wu Jun bared a savage grin, the scar on its face parting and closing a little.

But its five fingers clenched tight, and the way it had thrown out its gold veins the moment it arrived gave away the unease inside it.

A cultivation at the twelfth layer of Return-to-Void counted, in this quarter of Nanhong, as a strength of the first order.

Above that, one was either an elder of an immortal sect, or a great demon of high renown in the Dragon Palace — or at the very least the trump card of some power holding a region.

One against three, Wu Jun had not one chance in ten.

But as an Anchor-Stone, even if it shattered here today, it had to win its master time enough to get away.

“However well it acts the part, it is only a dead thing. Why bother, Sect Master Shen.”

The turtle demon Third Uncle swept in from the distance, unhurried, staring into Wu Jun's eyes.

It knew something of spirit-puppets; behind this seemingly lifelike stone puppet, Shen Yi was certainly working the strings.

As it spoke, the other two hunched figures turned their indifferent gaze over as well.

The next moment gold veins spread across…