Behind him, that ghostly hand streaked across the sky, clawing at the back of Ye Xiwen's head with speed and urgency. Ghostfire burned the void to pieces as the old ghost instantly slipped through space to appear behind Ye Xiwen.
Jia Gu Zhengshuo had raised this old ghost for a long time. The two were practically of one mind, their coordination flawless. In that instant, he struck directly, his timing precise to the slightest fraction, as though the two had arranged it beforehand—and Ye Xiwen was playing right along with them.
Just as that ghostly hand was about to seize Ye Xiwen and crush him apart, Ye Xiwen suddenly moved. His body twisted into an eerie posture, narrowly evading the ghostly hand.
Ye Xiwen turned, feeling the temperature on his left surge madly, as if the entire void had caught fire. The ghostly hand passed by his side, missing by a hair's breadth.
At the same time, Ye Xiwen raised his left hand. Golden divinity shimmered across it, transforming into a huge golden hand that seized the ghostly hand on the spot.
"Sizzle, sizzle!"
Sharp sizzling sounds rang out as it dissolved. Though the ghostfire was bizarre and terrifying, it had encountered Ye Xiwen's divinity, the most rigid and yang force between heaven and earth. It utterly suppressed the ghostfire.
"Boom!"
Ye Xiwen crushed the entire arm apart on the spot.
"Roar!" The old ghost immediately howled in agony. That thread of golden divinity raced up its arm and into its body, making it writhe across the ground in pain. Ghosts were inherently creatures of extreme yin, let alone when faced with divinity refined by Ye Xiwen.
Everything had happened too quickly. The crowd had barely reacted. They had only just seen Ye Xiwen retreat beneath Jia Gu Zhengshuo's attack