The formation abandoned, tracks vanished, banner power exhausted; the routed army's remnants, their lifespans full.

How could this guy's True Essence be so profound?

He had unleashed one large-scale, high-powered spell after another—was there not even the slightest sign of his True Essence running dry?

How could a cultivator who had not even reached the Immortal Realm possess such a terrifying reserve of True Essence?!

Yang Ren's fingers unconsciously clenched as those questions echoed over and over in his mind.

He had lived through the last Investiture of the Gods war and seen no small number of cultivators, including plenty of exceptionally gifted talents. Yet he had never encountered a monster like Zhao Cheng.

His True Essence seemed inexhaustible. Though trapped within the Red Water Formation, he had instead forced the two men who set it up into a steady retreat.

Yet no matter how unwilling he was, he knew that circumstances were stronger than men.

If this dragged on any longer, let alone wearing Zhao Cheng to death, the two of them might truly end up leaving their lives here, just as Yan Lu had said.

"Retreat!"

Yang Ren gritted out the word. While Yan Lu could still barely wield the Primordial Banner to hold on, he condensed a stream of True Essence in his palm and beckoned remotely toward the Red Water Formation's platform in the distance.

The formation platform, originally over three meters tall, visibly began to shrink, as though gripped by an invisible force.

The fierce Baleful Intent gourd atop it, which had been continuously spewing red water, stopped operating first. The red water flowed back in the direction of the retreating platform like an ebbing tide, making a surging, wave-like roar.

In the blink of an eye, the platform shrank to the size of a palm and flew toward Yang Ren wrapped in red light.

"Trying to run?"

Zhao Cheng's