Slaying the Ink-Painted Dancer

At that moment, Wei Zhongran was drenched as if he had been washed in water, his forehead covered in sweat. He had long since lost his usual composure.

"Damn it, someone's going to die!"

Wei Zhongran cursed inwardly. He had already pushed his speed to the limit, but after the upward surging force produced by the collapse between the two realms had first appeared below, the wind abruptly shifted once the power of space began to spill out.

A powerful suction force now rose from the depths of the abyss, as though it would drain away everything in the surrounding area.

The massive peaks and rocks that had originally collapsed inward from above were no longer blocked by the surging force. In an instant, they cascaded downward like a river breaking through a thousand miles, plunging toward the depths with howling roars.

Wei Zhongran's ascending body was relentlessly dragged downward.

If not for the delay effect of the technique Gu Jiuqi had given him, which had allowed him to flee upward in advance, along with the upward blast generated at the very start of the barrier's destruction—

He would likely have already been sucked into the turbulent space within the barrier between the two realms.

Even so, wave after wave of powerful suction from beneath his feet continued dragging him downward, making his rising body resemble a small boat tossed about on stormy waters.

Wei Zhongran's magic power was incomparably deep and his cultivation profound. He still broke free from the restraints below at all costs, but in those mere few breaths, more than half of his magic power had been consumed.

This was no longer something that could be instantly restored simply by clutching spirit stones.

Yet Wei Zhongran possessed a great secret of his own, and that secret