Lu Ya lowered his eyes, his gaze cold and waveless. He raised a hand and took up the cinnabar brush from the table. The brush tip drank full of crimson cinnabar, and the instant it fell, the temperature inside the tent plunged. Every candle flame shrank to the size of a bean.
His brush moved like dragons and snakes, its force deep and steady. On the very center of the straw effigy's chest, stroke by solemn stroke, he wrote the three characters of Zhao Gongming's name.
As the cinnabar touched down, the writing instantly seeped into the grain of the straw effigy, linking with the effigy's natal aura.
Far away, inside the Cheng Tang main camp, Zhao Gongming, who was presiding over the army, suddenly felt his heart lurch. A sharp pain attacked his chest, the Immortal Essence throughout his body fell into disorder, the Three Flowers above his head faintly swayed, and the Five Qi in his chest churned without rest.
Lu Ya finished writing the name and tossed the cinnabar brush onto the table.
His fingertips formed a hidden incantation seal, while obscure spells were silently recited in his mouth. The pages of the Seven Arrows Book of the Nail-Headed turned by themselves without wind, and the skyful of curse runes all surged into the straw effigy, fusing with those three characters of the name.
He looked at the name on the straw effigy, the corner of his mouth curling into an indifferent smile. This sinister, venomous curse art had already been completed.
From this moment on, Zhao Gongming's life was firmly gripped in the hands of the Seven Arrows Book of the Nail-Headed and the straw effigy. Once the time arrived, his soul would fly apart and his spirit scatter.
At the side, Jiang Ziya and the