Wind Summoning

The moment Zuo Qianshan entered the battlefield, his gaze locked onto Wu Wei, who was locked in a fierce struggle with Elder Zheng.

Wu Wei had lost an arm, and his injuries had yet to heal. Elder Zheng was pressing him so hard he could barely catch his breath, and he was on the verge of being unable to hold on.

Zuo Qianshan soared over, and a streak of Sword Qi slashed down through the air, forcing Wu Wei to retreat several steps.

When Wu Wei saw who it was, his blood-red pupils abruptly contracted.

He recognized Zuo Qianshan. This was the very man who had once been hunted all the way to this city by an incarnation of the Cangwu Old Ancestor, yet had escaped alive.

Anyone who could survive at the hands of a Sixth Turn incarnation was absolutely not to be underestimated.

But Wu Wei quickly sensed that something was off.

Zuo Qianshan's face was pale as paper, his breathing hurried and unsteady. Though his attacks were sharp, they lacked the oppressive force that should have belonged to someone at the peak of the Round Marrow realm.

There were occasional, subtle lags between his sword moves, as though something within his body was restraining the circulation of his True Qi.

He was injured.

A gleam flashed through Wu Wei's blood-red eyes, and his earlier urge to retreat immediately vanished.

He suddenly threw back his head and let out a shrill, mournful howl. The piercing cry shook the surrounding low-tier Demonic Beasts into scattering.

The next instant, Wu Wei's body swelled violently. His grayish-white skin expanded madly, his bones crackling, as he revealed his true Yaksha form—twenty to thirty zhang tall.

The Yaksha's true form was enormous and hideous. Four horns, sharp as blades, stabbed toward the sky,