Xu Xuanhu bore the brunt of the attack, enduring most of the assault. The three layers of black aura surrounding him thinned rapidly under the erosion of Chaotic True Fire and blood-colored evil qi. Scorched wounds began appearing on the surface of his body, with fresh blood continuously seeping out.
Yet he gritted his teeth, steadfastly supporting himself, not retreating a single step. His eyes were filled with determination and defiance. He knew that he was the last hope for these people, and he absolutely couldn't fall.
"The bloodline of the Immortal is indeed extraordinary! To withstand such a degree of refining for so long!" The Supreme Dao Sect Master looked at Xu Xuanhu inside the Furnace of Eight Trigrams, a flash of admiration in his eyes, but more so a cold killing intent.
