Long before Lei Wanjun drew near, Chen Mo had recalled the Shadow Puppets he had scattered outside.
Those shadows lurking in the dark, ready to strike a finishing blow at any moment, turned into wisps of black smoke and silently slipped back into his shadow without drawing anyone's notice.
His gaze was locked tightly on the figure wreathed in lightning in midair, his pupils reflecting the instant that thunder spear tore through the curtain of rain.
Five Thunders Orthodox Method.
Utterly unyielding and utterly yang, vast and majestic—under a single strike, all things bowed their heads.
Chen Mo's throat shifted slightly, and a trace of undisguised longing flashed through his eyes.
That was true thunder magic: upright and imposing, the radiant might of heaven crushing others through sheer force.
With a single thrown spear, heaven and earth changed color. Simply watching such power was enough to make one's blood boil.
What a pity.
Chen Mo lowered his head and looked at his open palm.
A faint wisp of purple true qi flowed between his fingers.
With Taiyin Qi of the yin attribute, even if he one day touched the threshold of thunder magic, the power he unleashed would only be yin lightning.
Utmost yin, utmost chill, silent and soundless. Perhaps it would be even more strange and unpredictable, but it would never possess Lei Wanjun's vast, upright grandeur.
Chen Mo slowly clenched his fist, and that wisp of true qi dispersed between his fingers.
He could not help simulating it in his mind.
If the target of that spear just now had not been Yamata no Orochi, but himself...
A substitute paper doll.
That was the lifesaving trump card he relied on most, the first thing that came to mind.
But it probably still would not have been enough. The