The one who emerged from behind Wu Qi was a small fellow. He was very short and skinny, and looked like a shriveled mouse who was overexposed to the sunlight. In his grip was a short sword, about one-foot and two inches long, as wide as a leek leaf, and as thin as a gust of breeze. Behind him swirled a clump of pale-dark mist, amidst which, a beast soul with the shape of a six-legged mouse could be vaguely seen.
Without stirring up any wind or emanating any aura, the small fellow just emerged out of the thin air behind Wu Qi, and thrust the sword forward. The sword tip approached the back of Wu Qi's head at an incredible speed, looking as if it were going to pierce through his head with one swift strike. Faintly, there was a layer of tricolored gleam glinting on its surface, an obvious sign that it was poisonous.
Heavenly Lord San Yu saw how the small fellow emerged from behind Wu Qi, but he shut his mouth and said nothing.