The surface of the tentacles was covered with suckers the size of fingernails, each of which was oozing a viscous, dark green liquid.
The moment the liquid came into contact with the air, it turned into a visible dark green mist, surging and spreading like a living thing.
"[Divine Embryo - Eight Evil Faces] Third Incarnation - "Miasma"
The old man's voice came from above.
Across the entire theater space, there was a sense of things having settled down.
Lu Ping looked up.
He slowly lowered the [Feather of the Rabbit Escape] that had been fully charged and ready to be fired from the ox-horn bow.
Blue sparks formed from condensed lightning Cursed Energy flickered a few times on the arrow fletching before finally dissipating.
Because the Bronze Gate and the enormous, drooping tentacles had now transformed into a thick, fleshy barrier, standing between him and the old man.
Given the presence of a "Special Grade obstacle" in the middle, this kind of ranged attack, whose effectiveness is uncertain, has lost its purpose.
Directly above the theater's dome, two Curse User were already floating in mid-air.
The old man stood on the shoulder of the Birdman Curse Spirit with outstretched wings, his robes fluttering in the wind.
Mitarai Shizuru stood on a flying eagle woven from Cursed Energy threads, his face ashen from blood loss.
[Solitary Prison] will only imprison the entity designated by the Cursed Technique; other entities will be harmlessly expelled from this special space.
Before the Cursed Technique's effects end, the inside and outside of the prison cannot affect each other.
At this moment, inside the dilapidated theater designated as a prison, only Lu Ping, the little boy lying at his feet, and --
Special Grade Evil God Cursed Womb is about to crawl out from the Bronze Gate.
The poisonous mist released by "this miasma" has a fatal corrosive effect on creatures with Cursed Energy; within ten minutes, your Cursed Energy circuits will be completely paralyzed.
The old man's voice came down from the dome, echoing in the enclosed theater space.
"I will come to collect your body in half an hour."
As soon as he finished speaking, he walked into the open Japanese-style door behind him and disappeared.
Behind the door, the old man wiped the sweat from his brow.
Are you kidding me?
He dared not remain within the sight of a dying Ten Shadows Sorcerer.
Who knows if the other party will impose a fatal Binding Vow, further extending the distance of the Taming Ritual and taking you along as well.
Although I possess some of the prophetic abilities of the Gospel Book, it doesn't mean I dare to stand unprepared in the face of unpredictable changes.
Whether it's the "Ten Shadows" or the Six Eyes," both are enormous variables capable of influencing the course of history.
He strictly followed the instructions in the Gospel Book and never made a mistake in decades or even centuries.
Inside the opera house.
Its dark purple tentacles stretched out completely, revealing its true form.
It was an octopus-shaped Cursed Spirit, about five meters in length, with a deathly deep purple body.
The suckers on all eight tentacles opened at that moment, spraying poisonous mist in all directions at an astonishing speed.
A thick, greenish-black fog spread from the center of the stage outwards, engulfing the front rows of the audience in just three seconds.
Lu Ping made his assessment within 0.3 seconds of the toxic fog contacting his skin.
This eerie fog does not attack through the respiratory system.
It penetrates directly into the Cursed Energy circuit through the skin's surface, like adding water to gasoline.
He could feel that beneath the skin of his left forearm, which had come into contact with the poisonous fog, the flow of Cursed Energy in his body, which had already been reduced due to the overload, suddenly slowed down by 30%, making matters worse.
Without hesitation.
Lu Ping took one last breath of relatively clean air, and instantly sealed his mouth, nose, and all the pores of his body with the Cursed Energy he had summoned.
But before he began to retreat, his gaze was fixed on the high-hanging Bronze Gate.
It was carved with a blurry mural, the intricate engravings covered with verdigris.
This pattern is very similar to the "Primordial Barrier" that I saw in the memories of the Faso regarding Barrier Technique.
Judging from the animal skins worn by the people performing sacrifices in the murals, these evil beings must have existed in a very ancient era, at least dating back to the primitive period when people ate raw meat and drank blood.
However, it seems to have been completely sealed away by a skilled barrier master during the Heian Era.
Without a second thought, Lu Ping picked up the unconscious little boy and quickly retreated to a safe space behind them that had not yet been covered by the poisonous fog.
During the retreat, recalling the murals he had just seen, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
The old man's Cursed Technique, [Solitary Prison], is actually incapable of truly liberating these special beings.
The upper limit of Cursed Technique's capacity depends entirely on the degree to which the surrounding space is damaged by these entities themselves.
The old man had previously mentioned that if the doors were not closed within half an hour, the Cursed Spirits inside the prison would go out of control.
These Bronze Gate, bearing strange verdigris, were also different from the Japanese-style wooden doors that the other party had casually made before.
They may never have originally existed in the space of this modern city, but were suppressed beneath the dark depths of the sea.
If that's the case, why not just break the seal completely and let the Cursed Spirit go out of control when the time comes?
This is much less strenuous than expending a huge amount of Cursed Energy to act as a porter every time.
Unless the other party has imposed certain Binding Vow, or the out-of-control Cursed Spirit is factored into the cost of the Cursed Technique, this is entirely consistent with the realistic logic that escaping from prison will be punished.
Thinking of this, Lu Ping recalled the old man's frequent habit of looking up at the sky during the battle.
The midday sun was quite dazzling today.
Could it be the sun?
No, that's not right, he wasn't looking at the sun directly overhead.
He often paid attention to the positions of the stars next to the sun!
Thinking this through, he became even more certain that the opponent's Cursed Technique did not unconditionally borrow the power of these evil beings.
It will most likely require strict restrictions on time, location, and even the position of stars.
This elaborate ritual is likely related to the Gospel Book mentioned by the other party, which records the existence of some nascent, enormous threat among the Ten Shadows.
Speaking of enormous, yet unformed threats--
Lu Ping's thoughts then drifted to the Taming Ritual of the [Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga]. He had almost fully activated it once before when he was in dire straits, but he escaped death at the last moment because he did not finish reciting the incantation.
But this also allowed him to witness firsthand that the initial manifestation of the Mahoraga's Taming Ritual was actually a giant white cocoon.
Looking back now, that White Cocoon that exuded an endless sense of oppression did indeed bear some resemblance to the Cursed Womb of the Cursed Spirit.
Does this mean that the Taming Ritual of Mahoraga did not signify the end of the Ten Shadows?
That ability to adapt to everything and deconstruct all harm—from another perspective, isn't it also a "universal petri dish" that can encompass everything?
Furthermore, the mantra "Furube Yurayura Furu Mantra" inherently signifies the resurrection of the dead, thus symbolizing the beginning of a new life.
Could the true power of the Ten Shadows be built upon the complete subjugation of Mahoraga, thus "fully activating" this cultivation vessel?
Thinking of this, Lu Ping's heart was filled with an uncontrollable surge of emotions.
This secret, involving the underlying logic of the Ten Shadows Technique, is something that even Kenjaku, who has lived for over a thousand years, might not be able to fully comprehend.
The woman could only sense a vague aura from the side, because at that time Mahoraga had not yet emerged from his cocoon and had not yet come to the real world.
Her feelings were nowhere near as profound as those of the caster herself, who had personally experienced and even nearly completed the summoning.
The extent to which the world has explored the Ten Shadows is likely less than one percent.
The greenish-black poisonous fog paid no heed to Lu Ping's thoughts, and had already spread like a tide to the very back of the theater.
At the very last moment before the poisonous fog completely enveloped him, Lu Ping finally used this trump card that he had kept hidden for so long.
A dark rift suddenly opened in the shadow beneath their feet.
He led the boy, disappearing silently into the shadows as if falling into a deep pool.
The tear has closed.
The theater was completely empty.
Only the octopus-shaped Cursed Spirit named "Miasma" remained, continuously spewing out suffocating dark green mist in the empty theater.
Three seconds later, the toxic fog engulfed the entire theater.
In a dark and gloomy space, the interior of the shadow was deathly silent.
A black, viscous substance rippled beneath my feet. This place was isolated from all external toxins, but also devoid of oxygen.
Lu Ping maintained his usual calm expression and casually pulled out two large-capacity industrial oxygen cylinders that he had prepared long ago from Shadow's storage pile.
He skillfully placed one of the portable breathing masks on the face of the unconscious Midou Taki and turned on the valve.
"Faced with someone who possesses the power of Ten Shadows, defeat is inevitable."
He listened to the hissing sound of the airflow and put on a breathing mask for himself.
Absolute Cursed Energy, the shadow that arises from it, teaches you to hold your breath...