"Boom!"
An earth-shattering roar rang out.
The enormous tail of Xiangliu's true form crashed down. Terrifying killing intent swept across heaven and earth like great black serpents, and an icy yet searing aura of profound frost instantly turned the land within a million li into a frozen wasteland.
Daoist Randeng gazed up at the sky. A crimson trickle of blood slowly flowed from the corner of his mouth, staining the Daoist robe over his chest.
He had never imagined that Daochen's appearance would completely rewrite the course of this battle.
"Hum!"
The Bronze Ancient Lamp appeared in his hand, its flame faint and wavering, as feeble as his own aura.
The successive battles had left him feeling like a lamp whose oil was nearly spent.
If he could not kill Xiangliu here, not only would the Human Race Calamity fail to proceed, but he, a pawn of the Primordial Heavenly Venerable, would also be torn apart in an instant beneath the wrath of the Twelve Ancestral Witches.
Even his three ethereal souls and seven corporeal souls would be utterly annihilated.
"Die!"
Xiangliu roared. The profound yin qi surrounding him grew denser, and an even more terrifying surge of profound yin qi suddenly erupted, descending upon Ran Deng with overwhelming might.
Annihilation Kill.
That was the only thought left in Xiangliu's heart.
He did not know whether the Primordial Heavenly Venerable had other hidden moves besides Ran Deng.
Without Daochen stepping in to disrupt things this time, his strength would never have been enough to match Ran Deng.
But while Daochen had come to save him here, what about the other tribes and the other Great Shamans?
What circumstances would they face?
All their fury would fall upon the Human Race. When that happened, knowing his fellow Witch Clan members as