Before the Nether God could even celebrate, that dangerous feeling suddenly appeared in his heart again.
He hurriedly swept the Soul-Stabilizing Sword through the air. A black dragon blocked the front of his body and stopped the enormous pillar of black-and-white primal qi.
At the same time, the staff in his hand spun up layers of phantoms and struck toward the mountain wall.
Wave after wave of sensations, as if he were being gnawed apart, came from within his spiritual sea of consciousness.
The Nether God knew that some more of his soul had been extracted.
"Boom, boom, boom!" A string of explosions rang out, and the entire mountain began to tremble.
Under the Nether God's wild attacks, the mountain wall in front of him was already riddled with holes, as though it might collapse at any moment.
Even so, the members of the Frost Race sitting cross-legged in the empty space before the stone stele remained utterly motionless. They continued circulating the Ice Soul Heart Sutra within their bodies, maintaining their combat strength.
He estimated that even if the entire mountain collapsed, they would not take a single step away.
This is bad. The Nether God's heart jolted. If his soul continued to be extracted like this, those three Battle puppets might lose control.
By then, those three Battle puppets would be in an ownerless state.
And they would attack every living thing that appeared before them.
At that time, he would be their primary target.
The Nether God knew very well what he had done to them.
Therefore, even if those three Battle puppets became ownerless, he would still be the first person they attacked.
However, even if he wanted to flee now, it would not be easy.
The Nether God looked at the mountain wall before him,