"Hoo—"
Hovering eleven thousand meters in the air, Richard let out a soft breath. The air froze into ice crystals the instant it traveled more than a dozen centimeters from his body, falling with a clattering sound into the sea of fire below.
Within Richard's field of vision, the flames produced by the explosions of nearly a hundred Micro Spell Tracking Missiles kept rising, completely swallowing Qiekafu and the other three.
This should have dealt with them... Richard thought, raising an eyebrow slightly. In his view, even if the Micro Spell Tracking Missiles had not killed Qiekafu's group, they should have stripped them of most of their fighting strength and left them unable to pursue him—after all, they had already been severely injured before taking to the sky.
He should be able to leave safely now.
Richard's expression eased somewhat. Watching the flames below drift slowly toward the ground like a sea of fiery clouds, with no sign of Qiekafu or the others for a long while, he turned to leave.
But as he turned, something caught the corner of his eye. He halted, his eyes widening slightly.
A figure suddenly burst from the flames and rushed toward him at high speed. It was Qiekafu.
Qiekafu looked utterly miserable, much like when he had first descended from Heaven. All his clothes had been burned away, his skin charred black, and his face was a bloody mess. His eyes were bulging wide, bloodshot veins crisscrossing them. His lips were split, his bloodied teeth clenched tight. He looked like a vicious ghost crawling out of hell.
His throat had been destroyed from inhaling scorching air, and he could only make indistinct noises. He reached out with one hand. The charred skin split apart, blood flowing from the cracks. Then large amounts of