As his blood essence burned, an unnatural flush spread across the Death Messenger's skull-like face. But no matter how he drove his Soul Power to detonate the Corpse Seeds, they were like Boruto—they simply refused to catch fire.
"A mere Corpse Witch dares show off before a master?"
Mighty Heavenly Dragon, Great Luo Spell, World-Honored Ksitigarbha, Prajna Buddhas, mami mami hong—
Sorry, wrong set!
"Want to use the Corpse Explosion Technique?" Lu Yuan raised a hand. The twelve Corpse Slaves surrounding him turned as one, their iron-gray, rotting faces swinging toward the Death Messenger. "Think you can out-explode me?"
With a twitch of his finger, one Corpse Slave lunged straight at the Death Messenger.
At the sight of it, the Death Messenger instinctively tried to flee. He was stronger than a Corpse Slave, but he knew better than anyone what a Corpse Explosion felt like. Lu Yuan had seized control of the slaves so easily that the Death Messenger dared not gamble on whether he truly knew the technique or was merely bluffing.
His fifth Soul Ring flashed, and he turned into a cloud of black smoke, ready to make his escape.
But just as he tried to flee, a strange force locked down his entire body. He remained rooted to the spot, unable to move.
No—
Agony struck. It did not spread through his whole body as he had imagined; instead, a pain that pierced to the bone erupted in his left leg!
Boom!!!
The explosion rang out, yet its force was somehow confined to the Death Messenger's left leg.
"Boom! Left leg! How does it feel?" Having used his Divine Sense to contain the blast, Lu Yuan smiled. To the Death Messenger, that smile was no less terrifying than a devil's.
As the Corpse Slave exploded, a wisp