At that moment, Wang Wu was wrapped in Pale Fire, burning, when he saw three streaks of golden radiance fly out. They were not the Four Clowns, but three clowns: one was Grandpa Tree's database, one was the Bear Family's database, and one was the Peacock Family's database.
Like three hunting hounds, they shot out of the Darksteel Hut with a whoosh and vanished into the unknown.
Who knew whether they had gone to chase down the fleeing turtle's Divine Soul or had fled themselves.
But that was no longer something Wang Wu could control.
He had to thank the attribute panel for never abandoning him, though perhaps the attribute panel was incapable of doing such a thing.
And there was no time to worry about that now.
Because in that brief span of time, that massive mass of Pale Fire had burned through Wang Wu's 4,000 points of Yin Fire Resistance.
Well, to be precise, it took three seconds.
That meant he could remain unharmed in any—yes, any—quantity of Pale Fire for three seconds, after which he would hit his limit.
Still, he could skip the stage where it burned out an illusion and go straight to incinerating his physical body, the Five Demon Cores, the three Spirit Pills, and even his Divine Soul. Yes, even his Divine Soul could not evade the burning of this Pale Fire.
It was so tyrannical, so uncanny, so impartial. Pain was pain, but the prospects remained promising.
Because Wang Wu could truly feel himself progressing from being powerless against Pale Fire, to passively enduring it, to now almost beginning to enjoy it.
The first time he came into contact with Pale Fire, he had spent 1,500 years of lifespan to gain 1,000 points of resistance and harvest a small cluster of Pale