The halberd's light shot out, forcing the banner to shift. The red tide hadn't broken, but Yuan Can was already depleted.

"Bell! My Golden Light Bell!!"

Not far away, Yan Lu clutched his chest and staggered to his feet.

He snatched up the golden bell that had fallen to the ground, his fingers stroking the dent in its surface as though his heart were bleeding.

A small pit had appeared in the once-smooth bell wall. Three of the internal restraints had already shattered, and the golden radiance that had once flowed across it was now dim and lifeless.

This was a natal magic treasure personally forged by his master, Yunzhongzi. It bore twelve defensive restraints and could withstand a strike from an immortal, yet Zhao Cheng's sneak attack had destroyed three of them, leaving it a damaged magic treasure.

Yan Lu stared at the dent in the bell, his eyes reddening with heartache.

"Forget about your bell!"

Yang Ren covered the wound on his neck, his voice somewhat hoarse. His gaze remained fixed on Zhao Cheng in the distance as he shouted sharply, "That brat still has the strength to launch sneak attacks. Get over here and join me—we'll defend against him together!"

Only then did Yan Lu come back to his senses. Hugging the golden bell, he hurriedly stumbled toward Yang Ren.

Once he reached him, he still could not suppress his confusion. Gritting his teeth, he asked, "Senior Brother, he has to maintain a technique of that intensity to protect twenty thousand soldiers and resist the corrosion of the Red Water. How does he still have the strength to unleash such a powerful sneak attack? Can someone truly cultivate that much True Essence?"

"I don't know." Yang Ren shook his head. "There's something downright uncanny about that brat. Look at him floating up there—he still looks completely at ease. You can't see the slightest sign of his True Essence