He lowered his head to look.
The divine weapon, the Cycle Drum, rested safely in his hand.
Boom!
The drum sounded.
"Cui Jianlu's" motionless body underwent an earth-shattering transformation, turning into a green-faced, fang-toothed evil ghost in an instant.
Horns pierced the sky, crimson hair whipped wildly.
Fangs bared, his hoarse voice returned. His black-red eyes swept across them as he said lightly, "That wasn't very fair just now."
"I was at a disadvantage without a divine weapon in hand."
"Now, it's about right!"
The cultivators were horrified.
They had all believed Cui Jianlu would surely win.
Because Cui Jianlu was famous.
In the cultivation world, fame meant strength.
He possessed the inheritance of the Ancient Immortal Tower, boundless reserves, and a Time Dao Body that could seek life amid death.
If this battle had been a one-on-one fight, there might still have been some suspense.
They had already witnessed the terror of the artifact spirit. His divine abilities, secret arts, and unknown Dao Body were enough to overpower the holy masters of great sects.
But a battle of souls was different. In the end, the sea of consciousness was Cui Jianlu's home ground.
No one believed that Cui Jianlu, with his ancient treasure and reserves, would lose!
Nor could the Time Dao Body possibly have its divine soul crushed to death.
Yet the one who emerged from the sea of consciousness was not the person they had expected.
Wang Yuwei of Dongxuan Heaven felt not the slightest joy at Tu Shan Jun's victory.
He even felt that his sigh just now had been the sort of gesture only a fool would make.
The strange spectacle unfolding before him was enough to sweep away every emotion in his heart, leaving only a faint fear from the depths of his soul.