Qing Chen only felt his divine sense sink abruptly, as though plummeting into a scalding magnetic-sand crucible.
The ten-foot-tall Soldier's armor suddenly lit up with silver magnetic patterns, its tendons and bones appearing to come alive.
He tried lifting his arm, the fifteen-foot Pudao humming in his palm, the blade reflecting his own blurred face;
--at this moment he and this Soldier were completely merged, able to fully control this Soldier's strength.
This Soldier's strength was roughly that of the Peak Mid Golden Core, matching his own Dharma-cultivation strength.
Unable to use his own power, he could only drive this Soldier's power to release magnetics spells.
"Is this the taste of being a chess piece?" Qing Chen gnashed his teeth inwardly, gold and black divine light quietly lighting up in the depths of his eyes, this divine light sweeping across the surroundings, light and shadow shifting in the adjacent grid squares.
He looked fixedly, a twenty-foot-tall cannon standing strikingly to his left rear.
That cannon muzzle condensed deep blue magnetic light, and a glance revealed it was no small matter, being at least on the level of the Minor Completion Late Golden Core.
Looking further toward the corner, the chariot shadow was towering, the twenty-five-foot-tall chariot body poured like ink-iron, hard beyond compare, emitting a terrifying aura.
When the wheel axles turned, they actually issued a sharp sound that tore the void, like a sharp blade slicing through silk fabric, making one's heart palpitate with fear.
These chariot and horse phantoms each possessed an imposing aura, much taller than his Soldier, clearly corresponding to the cultivators' cultivation realms, and far exceeding him by a wide margin.
Qing Chen's gaze swept further into the distance, amidst the mist at the edge of the chessboard, suddenly a dazzling spiritual light soaring into