"You want it too? Then have it!"
As he spoke, Chen Sanshi pulled a porcelain bottle from his robes and tossed it over.
"Hm?"
Nituan and Wen Le exchanged a glance.
As they hesitated over whether to catch it, they felt a terrifying force erupt from within.
"Get out of the way!"
"Rumble!"
Before the words had faded, crimson flames burst forth. The dreadful heat visibly warped the void.
Even from a thousand zhang away, the two demonic cultivators felt an immense threat from it.
"Immortal fire?"
Master Nituan and the other were astonished.
"Do you two still want it?"
Chen Sanshi stood in the air. "I have plenty more of this fire!"
The two immediately retreated.
But they soon realized that he could not actually control the immortal fire. Otherwise, they would already have been burned to ashes.
"Damn you!"
Wen Le flew into a rage, transforming into a cloud of Black Mist and vanishing into thin air. When he reappeared, he was already within two feet of the white-robed man.
A folding fan silently appeared in his palm.
The fan looked refined and elegant, but its ribs were made from the bones of dead human cultivators mixed with millennium-old yinwood. Its fan leaf was made from a woman's skin, and even the painting upon it had been drawn in infant blood as ink.
A top-grade spirit treasure—the Soul Severing Plain Fan!
The soul fan spread open and swept forward like a blade. The bone-eroding yin wind it carried could not only wound one's meridians, but directly attack the divine soul as well.
Fortunately.
Chen Sanshi's divine sense was no weaker than his. He raised his hand and slashed out with his sword, blocking the blow head-on as his body flew backward.
"What powerful divine sense."
Wen Le narrowed