Ming Disha crawled out of the soil, planted his hands on his hips, and laughed. "Hahahaha! I already know how to deal with this formation!"
"How?" Lu Chengwen asked.
Ming Disha raised one finger, his eyes bright. "The Eight Trigrams Formation is an ancient spell formation, divided into one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight—eight formations and variations!"
Lu Chengwen cried out in shock, "That ridiculous?"
Ming Disha continued, "It creates eight completely different battle zones, inflicting indiscriminate damage and effects on everyone inside those zones."
Lu Chengwen nodded. "So that's how it is."
"And the eight formations are both connected to one another and isolated from one another."
"Oh..."
"The Eight Trigrams Formation is set up by the one who establishes the formation, but that person doesn't have to be inside it. He can control everything from outside the formation."
Lu Chengwen narrowed his eyes. "Go on."
"The so-called Eight Trigrams Formation is a domineering formation with countless variations that treats everyone indiscriminately. Only someone with an excessively heavy killing intent would set it up."
Lu Chengwen looked at Ming Disha. "Martial Uncle, is there anything we don't already know right now?"
Ming Disha's answer was very straightforward. "No."
"Get lost!"
Lu Chengwen snapped, "That was all fucking nonsense!"
Ming Disha laughed. "Why don't you ask me how I appeared inside the formation, and how I made it stop?"
"You've mastered the mechanism that controls this formation!?"
"Nope!"
Lu Chengwen was half dead with anger. "I'm really pissed off right now, so you'd better keep it short and say something useful."
"Fine!"
Ming Disha chuckled, then suddenly yanked Lu Chengwen aside and struck Lulin back with one palm.
After Lulin landed, he stumbled back several steps, utterly shocked. "Who are you!?"
Hua Xuening said, "He's our Martial Uncle,