"This silver-haired brat is quite steady on his feet. Mengshan Old Monster, how much longer are you going to brew this?" The moment he saw Lu Xiaotian still standing motionless like a mountain, Xiang Nanming could not help harboring a few private doubts in his heart as he urged True Person Mengshan with these words.
"Haste makes waste. Even this wet-behind-the-ears brat can hold his ground; are the two of us old fellows really going to turn out worse than this kid?" True Person Mengshan gave a cold, dry laugh. The Demonic Blood Soul Garment he controlled, however, did not make the slightest movement, merely continuing to emit wisps of elusive, pale red ripples that constantly spread outward to lure more spiritual birds into crashing against the array before them.
Countless spiritual birds crashed into the spiritual shield of the array, turning into mottled bloodstains while severed limbs and scattered feathers drifted down with the wind. This fairy-like region of misty spiritual peaks turned into a chaotic mess in just a brief moment, swirling with a congealed, unscattered aura of blood. The bloody scent lingering in the air grew increasingly heavy, and even gradually suppressed the mist drifting between the mountain domains.
As the blood aura gathered in greater amounts, thirteen blood-red thorns gradually formed in the air. Those blood-red thorns bore intricate patterns, and their auras were bizarre yet powerful. Yet these thirteen blood-red thorns were not in a rush to attack. With a burst of churning blood aura in the air, the thirteen blood-red thorns actually vanished from sight. Lu Xiaotian's eyes narrowed; these blood-red thorns definitely would not disappear on their own, and must have been concealed by Xiang Nanming using some special method.
*It seems this old monster intends not to make a sound until he