The black fire ball that Lin Qiao threw out was small, but the yak seemed to have sensed it clearly. It slightly raised its head toward the fireball, then opened its mouth abruptly and let out a stream of dark mist. A rotten odor was sensed from the dark mist along with a sour, awful smell.
“Why do I feel that this yak is…” At that time, Yan Xiao, who had been watching the whole time, thought of something and wore a weird look on her face.
