Violet-gold lightning, bearing the might to destroy heaven and earth, crashed down fiercely.
Yuan Luo hurriedly mobilized the spiritual power within him, pouring it into the ghost banner like a surging torrent.
The banner rapidly expanded, transforming into a colossal banner spanning a hundred li across the sky. Ghostly qi rose from it, undulating like a churning sea.
The lightning struck the banner.
The ghostly qi on the banner swiftly dissipated. The banner shook violently, as though it might be torn apart at any moment.
While continuing to channel spiritual power and driving the ghost banner with all his strength, Yuan Luo kept fleeing toward the underground cavern.
"Fellow Daoist, halt!"
A figure suddenly appeared atop a mountain several dozen li ahead.
It was naturally Song Wen. A spear over three zhang long floated above his head.
Spear radiance flickered from the weapon before shooting forth abruptly, swift as chasing wind and lightning, heading straight for Yuan Luo.
Yuan Luo hastily halted his escape light and waved a hand. A pale gray bell appeared in midair and met the spear.
A clang of metal striking metal rang out.
The bell was struck by the spear and sent flying away.
This bell was merely a pseudo-spirit treasure. Its defensive power was far inferior to Yuan Luo's natal magic treasure, the ghost banner.
Blocked by the bell, the spear's momentum sharply diminished. Yet under Song Wen's control, it rallied in the blink of an eye, its edge reappearing as it continued toward Yuan Luo.
"May I ask who you are, Fellow Daoist, and why you have attacked me? If I have offended you in any way, I ask that you show mercy. I will certainly..."
Yuan Luo's words came to an abrupt halt.
The spear was already close at hand.
He had