A group of people in bronze-green robes searched everywhere deep within fissures that cracked the earth like a spiderweb. Suddenly, a light appeared, illuminating one fissure. Those searching at its far end looked back and saw two people rising into the air, carrying a mass of orange-yellow flame.
"Divine fire! Someone stole our divine fire!"
A shrill cry rang out, rousing the others.
After darting out of the fissure with the divine fire, the pair rode their Wind Scales into the sky. A crowd pursued from below, some alone and some in groups, refusing to let up and shouting furiously all the way. It felt exactly as though something they had poured their blood and sweat into, something almost within their grasp, had been snatched away. They were furious beyond measure.
Perhaps only artifact refiners truly understood the fury and desperation of losing divine fire.
If they had yet to find even a single flame of divine fire, only to suddenly be robbed like this, saying they would all go mad was no exaggeration.
They kept chasing, unwilling to give up easily. They had a whole crowd on their side, while their opponents numbered only two. How could they abandon the pursuit?
After a long chase, a group suddenly rose into the air ahead. Dozens of people blocked the pursuers, sheltering the fleeing pair behind them.
These dozens wore official-green robes. Only those three sects could bring more than twenty people inside. The pursuers, who hurriedly stopped, might not recognize the smaller sects, but they certainly paid attention to the leading names in the Artifact Refining World. Naturally, they knew who was blocking them.
These were none other than the people of Summer Path Mountain.
The exit was indeed no longer a suitable place to lure the tiger away from