The instant Bai Zhi fell, Chen Wuya's fingertips were still caught on the hem of her clothes.
His knees buckled, and he crashed to the ground, his shoulder hitting with a dull thud. A metallic sweetness surged up his throat; he did not spit it out, but swallowed it back down. Darkness swam before his eyes, yet his ears could still hear it—a low laugh drifting from the depths of the violet-black fissure.
"You can't escape."
The voice seemed to crawl up from underground, spreading beneath the feet of the four of them. Chen Wuya looked up and saw the flowing dim light ahead suddenly warp. Figures seeped out from the walls one after another, clad in blood-red robes and wearing bronze masks.
Demonic Cult Protectors.
Not one or two, but dozens—scores of them, densely packed along both sides of the passage. They made no sound as they walked. They merely slowly raised their hands, palms aimed at the group in the center.
Chen Wuya clenched his back teeth and reached for his waist with his right hand. The Karmafire Pearl was still there, scorching hot like a chunk of red-hot iron. He gripped it tightly, forcing true qi through his meridians and into his palm, but his body was hollowed out, with only a trace of residual force running wild inside him.
[Delusion Realm projection detected. Evasion recommended. Current vitality remaining: 12%.]
He ignored it. There was nowhere to evade to. Behind them was an abyss, ahead were phantoms; Bai Zhi lay on the ground, unable to move, Mo Feng was unconscious, and the South Sea Dragon Maiden carried someone on her back, trembling even as she breathed.
He could not stop.
With a flip of his palm, he pressed the Karmafire Pearl against it. Misaligned force