Seeing his opponent's strange, troublesome attack exposed, Qi Jinghong smiled.
Li Yan's spectral soul attacks were indeed powerful. Even Qi Jinghong's divine sense could not detect their trajectories, which was why they had managed to invade his sea of consciousness earlier.
But the crimson cauldron he had formed from his magical treasure was an immortal art he had cultivated, called "Stone-Melting Crimson Flame." It could more than double the power of his pure yang fire.
Sure enough, under the suppression of his technique, his opponent's attack had nowhere left to hide.
His ability to force the spectral soul attack to reveal itself did not mean Qi Jinghong thought Li Yan was utterly worthless. Rather, his own pure, refined fire cultivation was truly extraordinary.
Back then, he had believed that, had he not encountered a mighty devil race cultivator at the nascent soul late stage, fighting with everything he had would certainly have given him a chance to self-detonate, perhaps taking his enemy down with him.
But that was all in the past. Right now, he wanted to eliminate Li Yan, the weakest of them, first, so he could quickly free himself to help the others.
Explosions shook heaven and earth around them, and the fighting in several clusters was exceptionally fierce.
Qi Jinghong chanted under his breath, tracing a strange pattern through the air with both hands before abruptly thrusting his palms against the empty space ahead.
Two palm prints suddenly appeared on the side of the crimson cauldron facing him. A thunderous boom followed, shaking the surrounding space.
The heat around the cauldron surged again, climbing ever higher and making Li Yan's figure across from him grow even more indistinct in the heat distortion.
With that thunderous sound, a red cloud erupted from the cauldron's enormous, sky-facing mouth. The