The words "Cauldron Spirit" still echoed through the air, yet Chen Wuya had not let go of the mechanism vial. His knuckles had turned white from gripping it for so long, and the blood that had seeped from his palm was already dry, stuck to the vial's cap.
Mo Feng poked his head out from behind a stone pillar, clutching a copper tube in one hand, his face covered in ash. Just as he was about to speak, the ground beneath his feet suddenly jolted.
Bzzzz—
A deep hum rose from underground, like some mechanism being forcibly started. Then, a blinding red light flared where the Black Iron Pivot stood. The glow swelled larger and larger, while the surrounding rock began to crack, blue-violet arcs of electricity leaping from the fissures.
"Not good!" Mo Feng spun and ran. "The power supply's overloaded! This thing's going to blow!"
Before his words had even faded, the Black Iron Pivot exploded with a thunderous boom. The shockwave swept outward along the ground, spraying shards of stone everywhere as the blast gale sent people staggering back. Chen Wuya was shaken to one knee, the stump of his left arm slamming against the rock face. Pain blackened his vision.
A twisted column of air rose from the heart of the explosion. Heat rolled through it, and even the air trembled. Yet amid that chaos, the Demonic Cult Master moved.
He had been kneeling on the ground, black blood still staining the corner of his mouth. But now he abruptly lifted his head, scarlet light surging in his eyes. Using the explosion as cover, he shot forward like an arrow, lunging straight for the Myriad Demons Cauldron.
Chen Wuya saw it. He knew what the man intended—the cauldron was tilted, but its core had not been