A rather strange burst of Dou Qi shot toward Xiao Mo in an instant, yet oddly enough, it carried no offensive power whatsoever.
Xiao Mo frowned. He had no idea what this Dou Qi was, but instinctively felt uneasy. He followed that instinct and immediately dodged aside.
The mass of Dou Qi flew all the way to a tree before finally stopping, then formed an extremely troublesome liquid on its trunk. The liquid was so thick it had almost solidified into sludge.
Xiao Mo frowned. He could tell this was some sort of marking skill.
He did not know where this fellow had learned such a skill, but he had to admit it was troublesome indeed. Once marked, he would have no choice but to clash head-on with his opponents for a while.
That would essentially spell defeat.
No matter how gifted or powerful Xiao Mo was, there was no way he could take on three people head-on. It was simply impossible.
He silently thanked his luck that he had not been caught, then brought the long saber in his hand crashing down in front of Monkey.
Monkey seemed to possess some uncanny sense, moving to flee the instant Xiao Mo's saber came crashing down.
But how could Xiao Mo let him escape? He had finally seized an opening. As the saber continued its downward strike, he suddenly clenched his left hand into a fist, and explosive Dou Qi spread through it.
Cold. Unspeakably cold. A cold that drove one to the brink of despair.
Monkey's movements slowed drastically, leaving him able only to watch helplessly as Xiao Mo's saber crashed down.
With a thud, he was sent flying backward.
Strangely, however, he had barely suffered any damage.
The wounds on his body were minor. He had merely gained a