A gust of yin wind—a bleak, pitch-black gust—rose from within the soul-suppressing figurine and spiraled upward. It climbed higher and higher, growing larger and larger, more than doubling in thickness in an instant.
If Shen Le had not shouted and simultaneously activated a wind vortex to drag Professor Zhang back the moment the yin wind began to rise, merely being brushed by it would have left him seriously ill at the very least.
"Stand behind me! Don't come any closer!—Qing Deng!"
Shen Le issued the order in a hurried tone. A voice in the meditation world answered, "Coming!" and the area around the two of them lit up at once:
Eight bright silver pillar-shaped bolts of lightning stood in the eight directions around them. Fine silver threads extended from each of the eight points, strand after strand, layer upon layer, weaving into a three-dimensional spiderweb that enclosed them both.
The howling yin wind burst into flames the instant it touched the web, giving off a foul smell and a piercing shriek as it spun away in the opposite direction...
"What the hell is that...?"
Professor Zhang staggered back two steps. Only when he saw the black wind take shape before him and get driven away did he realize that he had narrowly escaped disaster. Cold sweat instantly drenched his back.
His heart pounded wildly, and his legs were so weak he could barely stand. He struggled to straighten himself.
"Good thing you were here..."
"I invited you here, so naturally I'll guarantee your safety." Shen Le stood in front of Professor Zhang, his voice slow and reassuring. "Don't worry. Lightning is the best at warding off evil. As long as you stay inside the circle, nothing can happen to you. I'll go deal with it first, then call you over