Among the five, Song Wen was locked in a fierce battle, but he held a slight upper hand.
Yuan Rong, however, was finding it rather difficult. His opponent was the sole peak eighth-rank dragon, though he could still barely hold his own.
As for Feng Zhongli, Ji Yue, and Xuan Li, the three of them were thoroughly suppressing their opponents.
Their opponents were all mid-eighth-rank dragons, their cultivation slightly inferior to theirs.
Before long, the three should be able to kill their respective opponents and free up their hands to aid Song Wen and Yuan Rong.
Thus, overall, the human side held a clear advantage.
Just as the situation was looking excellent, Song Wen's pupils abruptly contracted, and he cried out in alarm.
"Fellow Daoists, the formation barrier is shrinking."
Only then did the other four realize that the formation barrier was continuously contracting inward.
Originally, the formation barrier had covered an area spanning ten thousand li in every direction. At this moment, it had already shrunk by more than a hundred li.
Moreover, the rate at which it was shrinking was visibly accelerating.
"What are those beasts trying to do?"
As Feng Zhongli spoke, she clenched her fist surging with red-black baleful qi and drove it into the dragon's abdomen. Flesh and blood exploded everywhere, while the enormous dragon was sent flying several zhang away.
"They are likely trying to force us into the cold pond."
As Xuan Li spoke, she urged her crescent-shaped spiritual treasure forward, slashing at her opponent and leaving a wound more than a zhang long across its body.
"We cannot let them have their way. We must end this quickly!" Yuan Rong roared.
Upon hearing this, a cold gleam abruptly condensed in Song Wen's eyes.
Yuan Rong was right.
He could not keep fishing