That mass of yin energy penetrated the cultivators' mouths and noses, their violent struggles slowly ceased, they became slack as if their souls had left their bodies.
Their forehead's originally pure soul color was dyed a demonic green. As the two-tailed black snake's tail thrashed violently, giving a command of sorts, the cultivators, one by one, became like puppets on strings, tilting their skulls, slanting their bodies, and allowing the two-tailed black snake to burrow into their eyes and noses as they stared down the remaining survivors with a chilling gaze.
The scene was nearly hopeless.
Amidst the tide of blood, the black snake moved like a thread. Su Jing's eyes were cold, and a slender, snow-white finger lifted unhurriedly, its tip surrounded by a halo of light, from which a tiny flame of lotus-shaped fire blossomed.
The Lotus Fire flickered as if dancing on her fingertip, slowly spinning and illuminating an area of serenity.
