"Something's wrong. Though that strike from my Pure Yang Sword was powerful, it couldn't have injured the Jing River Dragon King. Why hasn't he attacked all this time, instead of watching me slaughter the demons under his command?" As Shen Luo's magic power recovered, his thoughts grew sharper as well.
Just then, the drifting black-and-red demonic qi around him suddenly surged, swelling into a demonic cloud that blotted out the sky and enveloped both the altar and Shen Luo.
"Haha, young friend Shen, thank you for killing those fifteen demons. They were sacrifices prepared for this Grand Primordial Heavenly Demon Formation in the first place. You've saved this king a great deal of trouble." The Jing River Dragon King's figure slowly emerged from the ground.
Shen Luo's expression darkened at those words. He hurriedly recalled his seven Pure Yang Swords and the Heavenly Fiend Corpse King. Before he could do anything else, the black-and-red demonic clouds overhead descended and swallowed him whole.
Shen Luo felt fierce winds howling around him. Everything suddenly went pitch-black, so dark he could not see his hand before his face, as though he had fallen into boundless darkness.
Shen Luo was not the Demon Cloud Formation's target. Once it had imprisoned him, all the boundless demonic clouds descended toward the True Dragon Limitless Formation on the altar, seemingly intent on swallowing everything.
But just then, Yuan Tiangang, who had been sitting motionless with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them. A mass of yellow light shot out of his body, revealing an ancient, unadorned roll of yellow bamboo slips without a single word written on them.
The bamboo slips unfurled with a clatter and expanded hundreds of times over in the wind, covering the entire altar. Vast swaths of almost tangible yellow light rose from them,