You Call It, Will It Answer?

The azure iron ring bore down, drawing the forbidden patterns above the stone passage alight layer by layer.

The bronze patterns beneath Chen Changqing's feet cracked open. He held the Heavenly Thunder Sword across his body, its lightning forced to skitter wildly along the blade.

When a True Lord struck, it was nothing like a Tribulation Transcendence cultivator's attack.

It was not a matter of how much spiritual power he had.

Heaven and earth were willing to lend him their strength.

True Lord Li pressed his palm downward, and the iron ring dropped another three inches.

Chen Changqing's shoulders sank. The bronze platform beneath his feet caved in, leaving two shallow grooves.

Behind him, Rujie pressed his palms together, raising a half-yard shield of Buddhist light.

The Netherworld Soul-Locking Formation weighed on his soul, and its five array flags hummed low. Ming Jiuyou stood outside the formation, a gray-white jade seal hovering before his palm, yin energy spilling from its base.

"Monk, are you determined to die with him?"

Ming Jiuyou spoke.

Sweat beaded on Rujie's forehead, but he kept talking tough.

"Young Mistress, that's where you've got it wrong. This poor monk is keeping fate company, not death."

A Netherworld Sect disciple sneered. "Then we'll send you on your way."

A black chain reached out from an array flag and curled toward the back of Rujie's neck.

Rujie's face twitched.

"The neck again? Is strangling people some ancestral tradition of the Netherworld Sect?"

He slammed his chipped bowl down over the ground.

Golden patterns lit up along the chip in its base. A ring of Buddhist light swept across the ground, jolting several chains half a foot off course.

Ming Jiuyou lowered his palm, and the Netherworld Ghost Seal turned gently.

That half foot vanished.

The chains shot straight