Chen Qiaoqian’s Senior Martial Brother and Song Meng looked at each other with a bitter smile. It wasn’t as if neither of them had treasure talismans. Although Chen Qiaoqian’s Senior Martial Brother had his deceased Dao Companion’s blue treasure talisman, he was familiar with neither its power nor its usage. Naturally, he couldn’t just take it out and recklessly use it. As for Song Meng’s grey spear talisman, its power had been completely exhausted during the fight with the ice demon.
As a result, the two could only insipidly wait for the three and protect them.
At this moment, the Emperor of Yue realized that madly flying around like a housefly was ineffective and stayed motionless in midair.
After he lowered his head and momentarily muttered to himself, he sinisterly took off the golden crown on his head and allowed his long, disheveled hair to flow in the wind and cover over half of his face. His increasingly demonic and mysterious appearance contrasted with the bloody light emitted from his body.
He took in a deep breath and suddenly used a sharp fingernail to cut a cross on his wrist. Blood profusely poured out of the cut and merged with the bloody light on his body, causing it to suddenly darken, instantly turning it dark-red.
Although they were separated by such a large distance, the Yellow Maple Valley cultivators were still able to smell that bloody, vomit-inducing scent. Their faces slightly grimaced but they could only bitterly continue to look on as the enemy casted his magic.
Seeing that the color of his body’s bloody light had finished its transformation, the Emperor of Yue opened his mouth, and spat out two streams of red Qi toward his wrist. This unknown magic technique immediately stopped the bleeding and caused the deep wound to gradually fade away. However, his complexion was greatly paled from the loss of blood.
With a stern expression, he took out a dull, jet-black hilt. The hilt was only half a foot long but it appeared extremely worn and completely unremarkable. From the way the Emperor carefully handled the object, it didn’t seem to be a useless item but rather extremely dangerous.
As he rigidly stared at the hilt, he started to softly mutter an incantation.
The incantation was neither loud nor easily understood. But from its slow chant, a faintly savage Qi pervaded the air, which gave the others an impression of ancientness.
“What is he doing?” As he watched this from far away, Song Meng couldn’t help but ask with great surprise.
“I don’t know, but it’s likely that he’s using a formidable magic technique!” Chen Qiaoqian’s Senior Martial Brother said with worry. He was also un
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