Yunxiao's gaze was cold as she glanced at him, her tone carrying a hint of mockery.
"Oh? You little brat, what else do you have to say?
"Weren't you just shouting about charging into the formation, all high and mighty? Why are you suddenly backing down now?"
Nezha's face was full of bitterness, his brows twisted into a knot. He opened his mouth, but had no idea how to defend himself, caught between advancing and retreating.
To his surprise, Yunxiao did not immediately activate the Primordial Golden Dou.
Instead, she lifted her hand and waved lightly, slowly halting the formation's attacks and completely freeing Yang Jian and Nezha from the encirclement of the formation's power.
Nezha covered the bleeding corner of his mouth. The unruliness he usually wore was gone from his face, replaced by a few traces of earnest pleading.
"Fairy Yunxiao, the force of your Nine-Bend Yellow River Formation is truly unbearable. I really can't withstand this kind of torment.
"Why don't you just display your Quasi-Saint cultivation and strike me onto the Investiture of the Gods directly, so I can have a clean end? Don't make me suffer like this in the formation anymore."
Hearing this, Yunxiao was suddenly startled. The hand holding the Primordial Golden Dou paused slightly, and the look she gave Nezha changed in an instant.
Nezha's origins flashed rapidly through her mind—this child had originally been Lingzhuzi under Empress Nuwa's seat, bearing the opportunities of the Heavenly Dao. He was by no means an ordinary immortal child.
Ordinary cultivators only regarded the Investiture of the Gods as a death tribulation where the body perished and the Dao vanished, fearing it and fleeing as far as they could. Yet he had actively begged for death, begged to ascend the Investiture of the Gods. Yunxiao