The footage on the monitoring screens had already switched to the carpet-search site of the Federation military.
A large number of soldiers in dark blue uniforms holding detection soul tools formed a skirmish line along both sides of the road, pushing forward inch by inch. The beams of searchlights swept across every patch of grass and rock crevice, leaving not even a wild hare anywhere to hide. In the sky, three low-altitude reconnaissance soul tools hovered slowly, and the sound of their propellers carried a palpable sense of anxiety right through the screen. Further away, several large engineering soul-tool machinery units were hoisting the wreckage of the destroyed transport vehicle, the muffled clangs of metal echoing faintly—they were still clinging to a sliver of hope, believing that the level-twelve fixed-guidance soul-tool cannonball might have fallen into some crevice or become wedged in the deformed armor interlayer.
Huo Yuhao watched those sweating Federation soldiers, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curling into a trace of a smile.
The publicity efforts of the Violet Dragon Pavilion are truly not small. He pointed directly at the magnified figure of Leng Yaozhu on the screen. The image froze at the instant she released the Phoenix Truefire; amid that pure scarlet flame, a faint layer of pale blue halo rippled, almost imperceptible unless observed with extreme care. That halo flickered slightly every time she flapped her wings, intertwining with her own soul power fluctuations to present a bizarre harmony. Look at you all, the Reciprocal Power on Leng Yaozhu's body has grown denser by at least thirty percent compared to when we last met.
Zi Ji leaned over to examine it closely for a moment, clicking her tongue in amazement. "This Faith Power is just too ridiculous. When we filmed that movie back then, I