The Dark Night Demon King swept his gaze over the many puppets, plotting how to get rid of Yan Yu, when he suddenly sensed that something was amiss.
The puppets each guarded a different position, forming an indistinct connection with the palace and isolating this place into a special space.
His expression chilled. With a casual flick of his hand, he sent a stream of demonic qi toward the surroundings. The demonic qi that should have passed through the walls struck them instead and returned without accomplishing anything.
He looked at Yan Yu, displeasure staining his face as he raised a hand and grabbed at her. "You dared to play tricks right under this king's nose!"
Originally, he had planned to wait ten days, let her complete the puppet army for him, and then make his move.
Who would have thought that she would be so impatient, rushing headlong toward her own death?
Yan Yu gave a soft laugh, her body drifting backward like a nimble butterfly as she avoided the attack.
She blinked, her face full of innocence. "Play tricks? I clearly want you dead."
As she spoke, Yan Yu took out a palm-sized pure white little bell and tossed it upward.
The pure white bell abruptly enlarged, firmly sealing this space. It was as dazzling and eye-catching as the sun at its zenith.
The Dark Night Demon King frowned in displeasure. As a demonic cultivator—and one who favored the night—such a bright object naturally made him uncomfortable.
He forcibly endured the discomfort and reached a claw toward the little bell overhead, intending to crush it.
"Dong!"
The instant his hand touched the little bell, a crisp and resonant chime rang out.
As though he had been scalded, the Dark Night Demon King withdrew his hand with a pained