Beiming Xuan tilted his head slightly and cast Ao Chi behind him a meaningful glance. Ao Chi understood at once. Raising a hand, he swiftly formed seals, spiritual light flashing at his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, a massive sphere of water appeared out of thin air, hovering steadily in midair.
The water sphere was a full zhang wide, perfectly transparent. Anyone with a discerning eye could immediately see the faint spatial ripples circling its surface. Clearly, a spatial array had been laid within it—its already considerable inner space was far broader than it appeared.
And inside the sphere, something was madly charging about and crashing against its confines. Each impact rang out dully, making the entire water sphere tremble faintly.
It was a fish.
No, not a fish. It was some creature shaped like one. It had the flat, sleek body of a fish, its surface covered in palm-sized scales. Every scale gleamed with a cold metallic luster, their edges sharp enough that when it cut through the water, clear ripples could be seen splitting apart in its wake.
Its head was an inverted-triangle serpent head. Its nostrils and mouth twitched slightly, exposing dense needle-like fangs. Its two eyes were blood-red, and at this moment, they were fixed viciously upon the people outside the water sphere as it crazily rammed the invisible barrier.
Once, twice, again... It used its hard skull and sharp scales to slam into the water sphere again and again, until its head was split and bleeding and its scales flew everywhere. Cloudy blood spread through the water, yet it did not pause in the slightest, as if it knew neither pain nor exhaustion.
There was no gleam of intelligence in those crimson eyes, only pure, nearly burning madness and a primal desire to