Nether Puppeteer Patriarch never thought that anyone in this world would dare to intercept him. Looking at the fair palm that grabbed his hand, which was as withered as the bark of an ancient tree, his eyes became sharp in an instant.
It was a girl's hand, white as jade and with skin so smooth that it was as if it didn't have any pores. The whole palm seemed to glow with a sparking light. Just by looking at it, one could imagine that the owner must be a stunning beauty. However, there was a faint turquoise light lingering on the palm.
Nether Puppeteer Patriarch stood where he was. He was only one step away from the Black Temple, but he was not in a hurry to enter.
