Strangling Mìwù

Dao Lord Mìwù was naturally familiar with those blood-colored binding threads.

They were among the strangest things feared most by all Dao Lords in this vast world.

Ancient clans such as the Louse Clan possessed formidable desolate bodies, so getting touched by a few binding threads was somewhat more manageable. But once a Dao Lord was "stuck" by the threads, with no flesh and blood for them to devour, everything from the Primordial Spirit to cultivation would become a substitute, without the slightest room for reprieve.

At this moment, Dao Lord Mìwù had lost his enfeoffment, suffered a backlash from resentment, and seen his cultivation plummet. Suppressed by Li Qingyun's Merfolk clone, he had lost his composure completely.

The myriad blood-colored binding threads that suddenly flew from the Merfolk naturally wrapped around him with unerring accuracy.

"Aah!"

Dao Lord Mìwù's Primordial Spirit was pierced by countless binding threads and suspended in midair like a blood cocoon. He could not help letting out an incomparably shrill scream.

In an instant, nearly half of his Primordial Spirit body was forcibly sucked apart by the threads. Others could scarcely comprehend such pain and despair!

"Merfolk, you will die a miserable death!"

"Lord of Iron Furnace City, I am Zhòujué's junior brother, the Eastern Desolation's regional lord! Come save me..."

Dao Lord Mìwù's mournful howls carried into the majestic Iron Furnace City, alarming the Ancestral Return Realm city lord within, along with quite a few powerful Louse Clan figures.

"Junior brother of the sick god Zhòujué—it is Regional Lord Mìwù!"

The Lord of Iron Furnace City, a burly, heavily bearded middle-aged man of exceptional martial bearing, flew out from the city wall with his men upon hearing the cries, intending to rush over.

But when he saw the terrifying aura of the Eight-armed Naga