In such a fierce melee, the life fires of cultivators on both sides were being extinguished every moment. Countless Dao Bones lay scattered outside, with no one to collect them.
Ziying's arrangements could be called perfect. After all, they had gone to such great lengths merely to receive Yan Hong's lone force on its return; there was naturally little difficulty involved.
Just as they were about to break through the enemy lines, Lu Ye suddenly felt a stir in his heart and turned to look to the side.
In that direction, a cloud of blood mist exploded. A Human Race cultivator returning alongside them was reduced to nothing but vapor in an instant.
A Blood Race figure flashed through the blood mist and appeared directly before him, reaching out with one hand. The sharp nails on its fingers glinted with a chilling light.
Lu Ye threw a punch.
The instant fist and claw collided, Lu Ye's expression changed. The Dao Force surging from the other side numbered at least fourteen or fifteen strands.
Ever since escaping the enemy encirclement, he had maintained the strength of twelve strands for the past few months. This caught him completely off guard.
A piercing pain shot through his fist. He had clearly been injured.
Fortunately, though there was a gap in their strength, it was not so great as to be crushing.
The Blood Race cultivator who had attacked clearly had not expected Lu Ye to possess such strength. He had intended to kill Lu Ye before ambushing Yan Hong, yet this strike had failed to achieve its purpose.
Just as he was about to put in more force and finish Lu Ye, a long spear thrust back from the front. Yan Hong had sensed something wrong and come to his aid.
A fierce