Zhou Yi stepped back twice. The phantom crimson dragon coiled more tightly behind her, its head lowered and its eyes fixed on Zhang Lan.
She flipped her right hand, and the phantom dragon claw swelled a size larger. Crimson patterns of light spread from its fingertips up her arm. Her fourth Soul Ring lit up.
The phantom crimson dragon opened its jaws, unleashing a torrent of scorching dragon breath.
The dragon breath burst apart in midair into dozens of tongues of flame, surrounding Zhang Lan from every direction.
The flames wove into an airtight net, each tongue as thick as an arm. Scorching waves of heat baked the ground at the center of the Soul Fighting Arena red and cracked it open.
Zhang Lan touched his staff tip to the ground.
World of Chaotic Marks unfolded.
A distorted gravitational field silently spread out around him, extending thirty zhang in every direction.
The gravitational field covered most of the Soul Fighting Arena, its edges reaching all the way to the inside of the protective barrier.
The air within it resembled a disturbed water surface, rippling with layers of visibly distorted light. They looked like heat rising from a road in summer, but their directions were so chaotic that no pattern could be discerned.
The instant the tongues of flame entered the World of Chaotic Marks, all their trajectories changed.
Flames that had shot straight toward Zhang Lan veered within the gravitational field. Some bent left, others swerved right, and some even traced arcs through the air and circled back.
Every last one of the dozens of flames missed its target, passing beside Zhang Lan, above his head, or beneath his feet. The closest came within half a chi of his face, but not one actually touched him.
The flames struck the inside of the protective barrier, bursting into clusters of crimson sparks that the screen of light stopped.
A murmur of startled cries rose from the stands.
Zhou Yi knitted her brows tightly.
She could feel her attacks plunging into a tangled mass the moment they entered that area. The flames' directions were completely beyond her control.
Gritting her teeth, she thrust her dragon claw straight toward the center of the domain. Its crimson radiance was more solid and sharper than before, as though she intended to tear an opening in the distorted gravitational field by brute force.
Once the claw's radiance entered the World of Chaotic Marks, its aim went badly astray. The strike originally directed at Zhang Lan's face veered past his left shoulder.
Zhou Yi forcibly steadied the claw's momentum with her Soul Emperor-level Soul Power. Twisting her wrist, she wrenched its radiance back onto its original trajectory.
The scorching wind of the claw swept past Zhang Lan's right arm, leaving a charred black streak across his sleeve.
Zhang Lan took a step back.
Zhou Yi's dragon claw had passed almost flush against Zhang Lan's arm. He could feel its scorching heat, but it had not injured his flesh.
As he retreated, he touched his staff tip to the ground again. Five black Gravity Balls appeared around him, each the size of a fist and pitch-black as ink, with earthen-yellow patterns slowly flowing across its surface.
His third Soul Skill, Gravity Bullet Line.
All five Gravity Balls fired rays simultaneously.
The first ray shot toward Zhou Yi's chest, and she blocked it with her dragon claw.
The instant the ray struck the claw's radiance, a grayish-white layer of sandy erosion appeared across the phantom crimson dragon claw. Its luminous patterns dimmed, and fine cracks formed at its fingertips.
Zhou Yi's expression changed. The ray's corrosive power was far stronger than she had expected. It had stripped a layer from her phantom dragon claw.
The second and third rays followed close behind, shooting at her from different angles.
Zhou Yi dodged sideways, twisting her body at an incredible angle. The two rays grazed past her waist and shoulder.
But the rays turned behind her, flew halfway around the inside of the protective barrier, and shot back toward her rear.
Zhou Yi's pupils contracted. She swung her dragon claw behind her and shattered both rays.
As the rays burst apart, earthen-yellow sandy fragments showered down from her dragon claw, and its crimson patterns of light dimmed further.
The fourth ray descended from overhead, while the fifth shot up from beneath her feet.
Zhou Yi stomped hard, crimson Soul Power exploding beneath her soles. She launched herself into the air and flipped halfway over, avoiding the rays above and below.
But before she landed, Zhang Lan had already adjusted the angles of the five Gravity Balls. Five rays fired at once, sealing off every escape route from five directions.
Zhou Yi gritted her teeth, and her Sixth Soul Ring lit up.
The phantom crimson dragon let out a soundless roar. Its body suddenly swelled a size larger, and all six Soul Rings shone at their brightest.
She intended to force her way through this distorted gravitational field before Zhang Lan's next round of attacks.
Zhou Yi's Sixth Soul Ring shone at its brightest.
The phantom crimson dragon soared from behind her and coiled above the Soul Fighting Arena. Its head faced downward, its eyes as crimson as red-hot iron.
The phantom dragon solidified, its scales sharply defined and its claws keen. Every scale radiated scorching light.
It opened its massive jaws, spewing a beam of dragon breath condensed to its utmost limit. The red-and-white beam was as thick as a millstone and hurtled straight toward Zhang Lan with heat that seemed capable of destroying heaven and earth.
The temperature inside the Soul Fighting Arena surged again in that instant. Moisture condensing against the inside of the protective barrier evaporated immediately, and the heat wave pushed the spectators in the front rows backward.
Xiao Xiao instinctively raised a hand to shield her face. Nan Qiuqiu drove her rouge dragon Martial Soul at full power, rouge-colored Soul Power surging beneath her skin to keep the scorching heat at bay.
Wang Dong's short pink-and-blue hair whipped wildly in the hot wind. He narrowed his eyes, peering through his fingers toward the center of the arena.
Zhang Lan stood motionless.
He touched the tip of the Star of Eden to the ground, and his fourth Soul Ring lit up.
A dull earthen-yellow glow spread from beneath his feet. Eight black Gravity Balls rose from underground at once, scattered across a circular area twenty zhang in diameter.
The Gravity Balls sank into the arena floor, leaving only their upper halves exposed. The earthen-yellow patterns on their surfaces flowed violently.
Eight Desolate Heavy Prison.
The instant the Gravity Mire spread out, the crimson dragon's diving speed plummeted.
The massive dragon plunged into the edge of the Gravity Field, its body seeming to collide with an invisible mire.
Gravity from eight directions pulled at its body simultaneously. Its head was pressed down, its tail dragged upward, its wings torn at by gravity from either side, and its belly lifted by an upward force.
The phantom dragon twisted violently within the Gravity Mire. Its scales cracked apart one after another, crimson motes peeling from its body like a piece of red-hot iron plunged into cold water, its surface flaking away layer by layer.
The beam of dragon breath veered off course, sweeping several chi above Zhang Lan's head before slamming into the protective barrier at the edge of the Soul Fighting Arena.
The pale-blue screen of light shuddered violently, its runes flashing madly as it endured the strike head-on. A web of cracks spread across its surface, but it ultimately held.
The dragon's head dissolved completely just a few chi in front of Zhang Lan. Its body collapsed section by section after it, scattering into crimson points of light that vanished within the Gravity Field.
Zhou Yi stood at the edge of the Gravity Mire. With every step, her feet endured gravity dragging at them from eight directions.
Gritting her teeth, she channeled her Soul Power. Crimson Soul Power poured frantically from her body as she tried to force apart the Gravity Field's restraints.
But the pressure was too even, too steady. Her Soul Power was like a fist striking cotton, unable to exert its strength.
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