"Got you!"
"Hmph, hmph. This is the Blood Pavilion's secret art, the Soul Locking Spirit Binding Trap Curse. No matter how heaven-defying his fleshly body is, he won't be able to break free from endless weakness."
Someone panted and stopped fleeing.
He mocked Wang Yu—truly, the moment he gained the upper hand, he grew rampant.
Within the blood-lock prison, Wang Yu tugged hard at those chains. With his Third Tier Peak physique, he only made them creak and groan; no traces of snapping appeared.
And the vital blood inside his body was being devoured in an unending stream.
He was gradually weakening.
Breaking free was something best done sooner rather than later!
The blood-sea killing intent of the Minor Asura Killing Fist gradually receded, and the Yin Nether Demon Dragon took shape from blood and vitality. The dragon bit down on the blood-locks, trying to chew them apart with brute force.
Just then.
Jian Nanxing charged over again. The Serrated Golden Sword in his hand transformed into nine streams of golden-red light, stabbing ferociously toward his nine orifices.
The others did not stop either, but used their methods together, intent on killing him here completely.
A Purple Cauldron flipped over and spat out purple flames.
A Longbow Shooting Halberd transformed into a giant snake hundreds of meters long, snapping over in an instant.
Thunder and lightning churned, shooting in from all directions.
In less than a breath, a great number of Divine Power Spell Techniques fell upon him, and several magic treasures pressed down as well. It was as if he were carrying mountains on his back, and the strength he had to struggle grew weaker and weaker.
In this desperate strait, the Wind Thunder Secret Art erupted abruptly.
Wang Yu's struggling strength rose another level. He forcibly snapped several