As he was thinking this, another streak of red light shot toward him, narrowly grazing Tang Changsheng. Luckily, he had raised his Yin Spirit Domain and deflected its power slightly; otherwise, it would have struck him.
Even with friend-or-foe identification, accidental hits could happen. These were uncontrolled, scattered forces...
Tang Changsheng's heart tightened. He dared not watch any longer. He was no spectator cheering from a rooftop while a battle raged nearby. There were easier ways to get himself killed...
I wonder if there's any chance of contacting the Heavenly Court...
In that brief delay, the dozen or so streaks of gold and red light had already cut through the black-and-red clouds. They swept across the sky toward the bright side.
Suddenly, an ominous shadow rose from the blood-colored clouds, like a face shouting in fury.
The face changed into a black-and-red hand that radiated a dense, ill-omened aura. It stretched across several miles as it pursued the lights, seemingly intent on stopping them.
But the golden lights represented Yang Spirit True Persons. How could the combined strength of more than ten of them be underestimated? Even the red lights belonged to supreme experts at the peak of the Yin Spirit Realm, each of whom had at least formed a Yin Spirit Domain.
Yet to Tang Changsheng's surprise, those Yang Spirit True Persons seemed unwilling to fight the shadow at all. They only sped up, fleeing toward the light.
Just as the shadow was about to catch them, an azure Flying Sword shot out from the bright side. Its sword light stretched for dozens of yards, like a band of rosy blue cloud spanning the heavens.
The shadow showed no fear. It swallowed the Flying Sword whole.
But the next instant, the sword light pierced through it, cleaving the shadow