The Myriad Demons Cauldron continued to tremble. Chen Wuya pressed his palm against the formation-core stone, his knuckles faintly whitening. The pulses rising from underground grew clearer and clearer, like invisible threads winding around his consciousness. Just as he was about to withdraw his true qi, his sea of consciousness suddenly sank.
An icy aura poured back through the Misaligned Force, rushing straight into his head.
He opened his eyes and saw the space above the cauldron's mouth begin to warp. Black mist billowed from the crack, gathering into a human figure. The figure wore a blood-red robe and a bronze mask, revealing only a pair of reddened eyes. His body was illusory, yet his presence bore down so heavily it was hard to breathe.
"I have been waiting for you for a long time." The voice seemed to come from far away, yet also to ring directly beside their ears.
Bai Zhi immediately raised her sword in front of Chen Wuya. Her flexible sword trembled faintly, and the sapphire tassel at its hilt swayed.
The cult leader's phantom raised a hand and lightly flicked his sleeve.
Bai Zhi's body stiffened for an instant. The arm gripping her sword turned against her control. The sword tip swung around, pointing straight at Chen Wuya's throat.
Chen Wuya's pupils constricted. He had no time to dodge, nor to circulate his cultivation to block it. At that critical instant, he forcibly reversed the circulation route of the Canglang Art. The Misaligned Force surged backward through his meridians and slammed into his sea of consciousness.
He did not think about where this power came from, nor did he distinguish its nature. He simply treated it as wrong—wrong direction, wrong path, wrong way for energy to flow.
The system responded at once: [Rationalization of Incorrect