Feng Xi took one look at the scene before him, and his heart turned ice-cold.
Never mind Han Li attacking him again—just the dozen Six-Winged Frost Centipedes with their newly sprouted second pairs of wings were more than he could handle.
Making up his mind, Feng Xi wasted no time forming incantations with both hands. His upper body turned bright crimson, as though dripping fresh blood. Suddenly, with a sharp hissing sound, countless blood threads erupted from his skin, transforming into thick clouds of blood mist that swiftly enveloped his figure.
At the same time, the wings on his back absorbed portions of the blood mist, transforming them into deep red hues.
Then, inhaling sharply, Feng Xi moved his wings to unleash a secret technique for a desperate escape. But just as he was about to flee, an enchanting chant of Buddhist scriptures rose from below, followed by a sudden tremendous force that pinned him in place.
