Yi Chen felt his body flooded with thick, icy liquid, which continually battered his Soul Ring and compressed his soul power.
"What is this?"
Yi Chen drew the Wooden Blade and stamped the sludge on the ground into a pulp, then began feeling over his body with both hands.
To his astonishment, aside from that strange and powerful presence inside his head, he did not have a single wound!
The thick, icy liquid seemed to have been blocked by some force. None of it could enter Yi Chen's body; it merely formed a thick layer of "armor" across his skin.
Something even more shocking happened. Yi Chen felt the presence stuffing more and more information into his mind, filling his entire soul domain. His formerly sluggish Soul Ring became perfectly smooth and incredibly tough, while the soul power surging around him began to pulse slowly in a regular rhythm.
Yi Chen closed his eyes and carefully recalled everything that information had conveyed. His expression gradually grew grave. "So that's it... seal my Soul Ring so I can't use Soul Skills?"
Yi Chen keenly felt the other party's malice. Though he still could not be certain who it was, they were undoubtedly an enemy, not a friend.
After pondering for a long while, Yi Chen gritted his teeth, his tone grim. "If you want to die, I can grant your wish. Don't force me to kill you."
The remaining people exchanged glances, then lowered their heads.
Their auras gradually settled, and their bodies recovered somewhat as well.
A slender figure appeared like a phantom five feet in front of Yi Chen, chuckling sinisterly. "Oh, who are you? You dare challenge our Demon Dragon Hall? You're really courting death."
Yi Chen sighed. "Why are there always so many lunatics in this world?