The Star Moon Demon Saint pressed her thumb against the fan's ribs, slowly sliding its dark red leaf half an inch open.
A tiny, seven-colored flame danced along its edge.
Every trace of moisture in the air within ten li instantly evaporated. Space itself gave faint, strained cracks, as though the heat might burn straight through it at any moment.
Yun Sheng held the East Emperor Bell in her left hand and gripped her sword's hilt with her right.
She said nothing. But the space for dozens of yards around her had already solidified into an iron slab. Not even the sea breeze could penetrate it.
The Fire Phoenix Clan ancestor's spread crimson wings froze in midair, every feather on his body bristling uncontrollably. The corner of his eye twitched violently, and his Adam's apple bobbed with a strained swallow.
He would never forget that familiar aura, capable of burning a person and their Nascent Soul to ash together.
"What happened to all that shouting?" The Star Moon Demon Saint turned her wrist, spinning the Seven-Flame Fan around her fingertips as she glanced at the Fire Phoenix Clan ancestor. "Weren't you clamoring to send us to our deaths just now? Step forward. Let me give you a wave."
Dead silence fell over the gathering.
Among the four camps, the dozen or so Deity Transformation old monsters and the hundreds upon hundreds of Nascent Soul cultivators, not one dared answer.
Yu Cheng'an, ruler of Great Yu, looked livid. His eyes remained fixed on the fan as he silently retreated half a step. The generals behind him fared even worse, dimming even the radiance of their Magic Treasures.
Ji Longxue, sect master of the Hehuan Sect, stopped waving her round fan. Her gaze lingered on the fan and bell, intense wariness flashing