The volcano dharma form shook violently, and the spewed lava suddenly reversed, pouring onto the Nascent Soul Fire Cultivator himself.
He retreated in shock and anger, trying to extinguish that lamp shadow, but found it grew brighter, feeding on his own soul fire, like maggots following a bone.
The scene froze here.
Vast snowfield.
Snow and wind covered the sky and earth, dyeing the world in a desperate white.
A Nascent Soul Female Cultivator fled upon a snow lotus, her left arm vanished, with thick blood ice forming at the severed point.
Behind her, three figures dashed across the snowfield, their speed not a bit slower than her tunneling light.
Xiang Sishui was chased in the middle, his face pale as paper, with an ice crystal nail piercing his chest, right where his Golden Core was located. Cold air spread from the wound, freezing half of his meridians into an ice sculpture.
