When Bai Ming softly chanted an obscure incantation, tiny black insects, no bigger than ants and bearing wings, crawled out from those holes.
At the sight, Dongfang Yingcai's heart sank slightly.
She recognized this technique. It was the art of insect cultivation, one that had all but vanished from the central region.
This method was extremely difficult to cultivate and carried a high risk of death or injury. Moreover, the spirit insects suitable for rearing and breeding were mostly found in the southeast. Thus, even now, among the righteous path, only two lineages of cultivators—those of Lingxiao Dao Academy and Kudhan Temple—still practiced this art.
Yet even the cleverest housewife could not cook without rice. Even with complete Daoist Inheritances, lacking sufficient spirit insects as the foundation for cultivation meant that the progress of these two lineages in this art still could not compare with the cultivators of the demonic lands.
The swarm Bai Ming had released before her had been raised through the art of feeding insects with one's flesh, nurtured upon his own blood and meat.
Buzzz—
As the swarm took flight, Dongfang Yingcai's expression turned grave.
"Fuu—"
She slowly exhaled, then gripped the family treasure shaped like a ritual disk and infused it with Spiritual Sense to activate it.
"Screech—screech—"
Scritch, scritch, scritch.
Driven by Bai Ming's control and their instinctive craving for flesh and blood, the swarm instantly engulfed Dongfang Yingcai.
They let out shrill, ear-piercing cries in wild excitement. Completely unafraid of the treasure's power, they crashed into it one after another, charging forward without hesitation even when their tiny bodies burst apart.
"A fine protective treasure. But in your current state, how much longer can you keep it up?"
After releasing the swarm, Bai Ming's attacks slowed as well.
For one thing, in his