Sangyue Battle Formation
Drawn by the battle formation, countless withered leaves on the ground were pulled upward by the Sangling warriors in the sky. They fluttered into the air like a giant dragon dancing, or like a colossal mulberry tree thrusting straight into the heavens. The sight was magnificent.
The Sangling battle formation in the sky formed a nimble, circular veil of light, like a vast full moon suspended overhead. Together with the countless mulberry leaves that had vaguely gathered into a towering celestial mulberry tree, it created a rugged, imposing spectacle unlike any other.
"Qi gathers around the spirit mulberry, and the formation rises into a moon. This is the true Sangyue Battle Formation." The white-haired elder, gravely wounded, had no thought of tending to his injuries. Even from within the formation, he could feel its immense scale.
Yue Feng, locked in a fierce battle with Cen Ming, was likewise shaken by the astonishing spectacle. Still, Lu Xiaotian's impressive showing had lifted a heavy weight from his heart. In Yue Feng's eyes, Cen Ming was certainly formidable, but not especially difficult to handle.
The problem was the divine-shattering battle robe Cen Ming had cultivated. It was exceptionally difficult to deal with. Several times, Yue Feng had clearly gained the upper hand, only for Cen Ming to use the robe to block one or two attacks and turn the tables. So, even as he watched his elder brother Yue Ze's side fall into ruin, seemingly on the verge of total annihilation, Yue Feng could only fret helplessly. He had no way to lend a hand and relieve the crisis there.
Now that Lu Xiaotian had joined them, Yue Feng's greatest worry was finally gone, and he could focus on his own opponent.
Buzz—a single arrow ripped through the air, sending