But how could Lu Xiaotian allow the flying rider warriors' intentions to succeed? When he had just left Di Kun, he had used Di Kun's speed to close to within sufficient range of the flying rider tribe cultivators.
With a flick of his finger, he unleashed Ice Soul Mysterious Sound. One fresh trick could feed one everywhere under heaven. Against fifth-rank spirit hawks and Foundation Establishment Middle Stage flying rider warriors whose cultivation was clearly a full level below his own, Ice Soul Mysterious Sound was more effective than any other move. Even though Di Kun's gray-white light orbs were more powerful, they could not match Ice Soul Mysterious Sound's invisible, traceless nature. Without a defensive artifact for the divine sense, there was almost no answer to such a move. These flying rider warriors had been intimidated by Di Kun's strength and had consequently underestimated him to some extent. How could Lu Xiaotian let such a good opportunity slip away?
A sound like running water striking stone swept through the air. Every middle-stage flying rider warrior and fifth-rank spirit hawk touched by it froze in place.
"Damn it!" Seeing these elite tribal warriors seemingly possessed, Wu Hong naturally knew they had fallen victim to the silver-haired youth's earlier attack. He had no idea what strange technique it was, but it had actually robbed so many Foundation Establishment Middle Stage cultivators of their ability to resist. He absolutely could not let the opponent run wild. Wu Hong and three other Foundation Establishment Late Stage Cultivators abandoned Di Kun in succession and charged desperately toward the silver-haired youth. No matter what, they had to save the tribe's young men first. Many among them were their nephews and clansmen.
Wu Hong, the fastest to react, fired a heavy arrow at the silver-haired youth.