Countless black beams shot out from the darkness, blanketing the sky like a torrential downpour. Every streak of black light contained pure Netherworld power—the aura of death from the depths of the Nine Netherworlds. Ordinary people would die at a touch; even Saint Venerable Realm experts would suffer grievous injuries if struck.
Shen Xiu did not retreat, nor did he even dodge. Shielding Liu Qingyan behind him, he swept his right hand forward. Purple-gold lightning blasted from his palm, transforming into a massive Lightning Shield that blocked all the black light outside.
The black light struck the Lightning Shield with hissing sounds, like ice and snow meeting blazing fire, melting away in an instant. But there was simply too much black light, wave after wave surging forth without end. Fine cracks began to appear across the Lightning Shield beneath the relentless barrage.
Shen Xiu frowned slightly and raised his left hand as well. With both palms thrust out, the Lightning Shield instantly doubled in thickness. The cracks were repaired, and the lightning radiance grew brighter. Before the shield, the black beams were like moths flying into a flame, crashing in wave after wave and vanishing wave after wave.
The presence in the darkness seemed to realize how sturdy the Lightning Shield was and ceased its assault of black light. After a brief silence, all of Netherworld Valley began to tremble. Cracks split open across the ground, black mist pouring from them and gathering in the air into an enormous black hand that came crashing down upon Shen Xiu's head.
That hand covered half the sky, its five fingers like mountains. A massive ghostly face was etched into its palm, its mouth opening and closing as it released a shriek that made souls tremble.
"Netherworld Ghost Hand, Netherworld Valley's ultimate valley-protecting