Crack!
The layers of blood gang around Qing Chen rapidly shattered, spiderweb cracks spreading from his chest through his limbs and bones.
The crimson-purple threads of Samadhi True Fire ate away at his remaining protective blood gang with a sizzling hiss.
The blood mist overhead clung like an ulcer on the bone, clamping tightly onto his divine soul power and refusing to let go.
The four Brahma apertures on Qing Chen's divine soul trembled incessantly. That tyrannical blood intent threatened to tear him apart from within.
Deep in his sea of qi, his Nascent Soul sat cross-legged on the Demon Lotus Platform, its little face deathly pale. The cracks in the platform deepened further, wisps of dim light constantly escaping through them.
The arm with which he wielded the Blood Spear had begun to go numb. Every swing weighed like a mountain, and blood from the split web of his hand ran down the shaft.
More than half his true essence was spent, his strength nearly exhausted. And here in this Spirit-Severing Land-medicinal pills turned to nothing the moment they entered his mouth, and crushed spirit stones yielded not a trace of spiritual qi. There was simply no time to break the suppression.
The Blood River God-Slaying Spear's spear radiance had dimmed by more than half. The Six Demon Banners stood planted around him, their consumption of white bone essence soaring.
If he held out a little longer, either the blood mist would bind his soul or the threads of fire would entangle him.
Blood Fiend's blurred face drifted in the gray mist, his sinister voice carrying a hint of mockery. "Boy, did you think that after killing that man and leaving yourself the only one here, we would offer you a wealth of benefits to enlist your help?