The next second, atop the mountain, lightning flashed and thunder roared.
Jiangli looked up at the sky and silently said, "It's raining—"
Before she finished speaking, her skin turned to powder inch by inch.
Water and fire were incompatible.
The downpour was imminent.
The flames across the mountain seemed to sense the crisis, surging once more, as if launching a final charge and struggle.
The flames intertwined perfectly with the dark demonic energy, carrying that evil qi, dispersing into the wind.
As the torrential rain fell, the flames and dark demonic energy quietly returned to the earth.
At the same time, atop Mangshan, amidst the lightning and thunder, a series of mournful dragon howls intermixed, as if bidding farewell to a lover.
Even the heavy rain seemed like a dirge.
In an instant, everything in the world seemed to slow down.
Tianxuan stared blankly at all of this, rooted to the spot, unable to move.
