Fighting for Their Lives

With their backs to the wall, the Devil Race and the cultivators from other lands attacked more fiercely than ever. In almost an instant, dazzling flashes from self-destructing cultivators erupted across dozens of points on the battlefield.

Among them were many gravely wounded devil cultivators and cultivators from other lands who could not defeat their opponents. Nearly half, however, were South Sea cultivators whose restrictions had been triggered. The Devil Race was no longer holding anything back against them.

That brief delay was enough. With no powerful help from outside, Wei Zhongran was caught by the giant hand in an instant.

The hand descended like a world-destroying devil god and closed around Wei Zhongran.

Its grasp shook heaven and earth, though its five fingers drew together as slowly as an old man closing his hand. Where the wind from those fingers swept past, the shattered peaks tumbling into the abyss

burst into powder amid a chorus of bangs.

Wei Zhongran darted through the falling stone like lightning. He was giving it everything he had, bursting forth with speed he had never reached before.

Yet fast as lightning though he was, he could not escape the slowly closing fingers. They were a cage of heaven and earth that kept expanding, locking onto his figure until it became a mere afterimage.

The immense force rising from below shredded his robe inch by inch from the hem upward, reducing it to drifting ash.

He pressed his lips shut as spiritual light blazed around him. Spiritual energy surged from his two Dantians like a raging tide, thundering through his body as it raced along his meridians.

This was Wei Zhongran's greatest secret. Unlike ordinary people, he had two Dantian seas within his inner chamber, giving him two to three times the spiritual power of