Silently and without a sound, the demonic qi took shape—only to turn utterly berserk. It gathered toward the center, and a pitch-black, glossy demonic cloud appeared in sight. Then rumbling explosions reached the ear, and black lightning surged out from within the cloud. With a slight twist, it actually transformed into a five-clawed Flood Dragon, its entire body formed from black lightning. More than twenty zhang long, it lunged viciously to grab that cultivator.
Lin Xuan was still far away at this moment. Seeing this scene, even he could not help sucking in a cold breath. If even he reacted like this, then there was no need to mention the sole surviving cultivator of Misty Immortal Palace. His face was filled with terror. At this very moment, disaster had already come down upon his head; how could he still spare any thought to taking the treasure?
Without another word, he flicked his sleeve, and an ancient, simple-looking scroll immediately flew out from within it. The pages opened, and a wild, archaic aura shone out from inside.
At one glance, it was clearly an extraordinary treasure. However, the Confucian-Robed Cultivator had not the slightest confidence at this moment. The enemy was far more terrifying than he had imagined. The scene of his senior brother and junior sister falling was still vivid before his eyes; how could he dare show the slightest carelessness? His hands moved slightly, forming a strange hand seal. At the same time, he opened his mouth, and several streams of essence blood mixed with Life Essence gushed out from within.
One had to know that these things were no small matter. They could not recover on their own after being used up like magic power; it would take at least over a hundred years of meditation before they