Signs of Defeat

As the words fell, Guang Jisou struck first. He pursed his lips, aimed at the golden lamp in his palm, and blew out a breath that stirred a blaze of searing light.

His golden lamp was called the Dao-Burning Heart-Illuminating Lamp.

Without exaggeration, it was the finest Spirit Treasure in the Primordial Transformation Dao Ground, bar none. It held no fewer than three mysteries.

The flame-light he had just blown out, for instance, was called the Dao-Burning Flame. It was a spirit fire born when one of the lamp's mysteries resonated with Fire Qi. True to its name, it could reduce a person and their Dao to nothing and shatter the manifestations of mysteries beneath heaven. In an ordinary fight, this spirit fire alone was enough to sweep aside all opposition.

Seeing this, Feng immediately swept his sleeve.

He, too, held a Spirit Treasure, the Eight-Wind Bag. Unfortunately, its quality fell far short of the Dao-Burning Heart-Illuminating Lamp, and it could only amplify his own mysteries.

"Whoosh...!"

The next instant, Feng opened his mouth and exhaled. In answer to the Eight-Wind Bag, a fierce wind swept across the cosmos from west toward north.

Mount Buzhou Wind!

This mysterious wind was nothing like a natural wind of the mortal world. It resembled flowing azure light that circled Feng, forming a vision of forests.

Guang Jisou's Dao-transforming spirit fire crashed into that azure light, burning clear holes through it. Yet it held for a moment instead of shattering at once. Seizing the chance, Feng summoned another mysterious wind.

Flame-Fusing Wind!

This wind blew from east toward north, utterly unlike Mount Buzhou Wind, and carried the vigorous promise of all things bursting into life.

Riding it, Feng's figure scattered like smoke.

Almost at the same time, another wind came racing from the north.