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第一千七百五十章 鲨族病魔(第四更)

This battle was hopeless. The quick-witted ones had already fled, while the unlucky were instantly killed. Even the chance to escape with their spirit cores intact was slim; often, they hadn't even managed to use Teleportation before being devoured by those sharks.

As the ocean's ruler, the sharks were naturally ferocious. But this wasn’t the scariest part.

A powerful aura suddenly burst forth, sending fear and trembling through all living beings within a hundred miles. The sea itself roiled with the force of it.

Could it be...

The cultivators stared in shock, halting their actions involuntarily. A strange scene unfolded: just moments ago, thousands were engaged in fierce conflict; now, everything was eerily calm, even the ferocious sharks lining up to look at something on the left and then bowing as if in reverence.

A cold wind blew, followed by a blood-red light that appeared with great suddenness. The area wasn’t large—only about an acre—but it was so vividly red, like drops of blood might fall from it.

The blood-red clouds hovered above the battlefield, spinning around before the red light faded to reveal a pale-faced cultivator. He wore fine silk robes and was much taller than average; he looked gaunt, with no hint of color in his face or hands.

"Ah... ah... ah..."

He clutched his chest, coughing violently. It gave the impression that he was frail, like a sickly rich boy.

Indeed, he seemed young—only twenty-five or so—with yellowish hair tied back by a golden crown. His hair was dry and looked as if it lacked nutrition.

This man appeared so fragile that even a gentle breeze could knock him down. Yet, while low-ranking cultivators didn’t need to worry, the representatives from the Holy City were visibly agitated.

"Evil Spirit!"

"The Evil Spirit of the Shark Clan!"

"It can't be! He’s an old monster at the Profound Void stage; why would he attack so early?"

The cultivators were shocked and terrified. However, there was no point in feeling depressed now—whatever the reason for the Evil Spirit's arrival, their situation was dire.

Escaping from a Profound Void stage powerhouse was impossible for anyone.

But what choice did they have? Wait here to die like ants?

Even if it was difficult, they had to try. No one wanted to give up without a fight.

The fastest to react was the monk with the highest cultivation—Separation Realm late-stage. His mystic arts were also the most intricate.

Seeing the situation turn against them, he made an immediate decision and fled towards the distance, even leaving his life-bound staff behind. Such boldness left the old man across from him stunned; in that moment of hesitation, the monk had already escaped to the horizon, leaving no chance for pursuit.

The old man reluctantly gave up.

The monk breathed a sigh of relief, but his danger hadn't passed.

The Evil Spirit sneered: "Fleeing? Do you think you have any chance against me?"

His voice was soft and sinister. He continued coughing after speaking.

But he acted without hesitation, sending a blood cloud from his sleeve... no, not a cloud at all; it consisted of numerous red liquid droplets that flickered continuously.

Lin Xuan had already retracted his divine sense to avoid being detected by the old monster but carefully observed nonetheless.

The strange blood cloud quickly caught up with the monk and enveloped him in an instant.

The monk was alarmed, immediately summoning a defensive artifact which transformed into a thick light barrier. But it was useless; the blood cloud seemed to have permeability, ignoring the barrier and easily penetrating through.

"What kind of spell is this?"

Lin Xuan watched from afar, feeling a chill. He had seen many secrets but hadn't heard of such a technique before. How would he deal with it if encountered?

Before Lin Xuan could ponder further, he heard the monk's agonized cries. Once enveloped by the blood cloud, his skin rapidly dried up.

It seemed as if life and essence were being sucked away from him.

In contrast, the noble young man’s face showed a hint of enjoyment; his pale complexion had a tinge of red.

Absorbing others' vitality for himself?

Lin Xuan's eyes were sharp. He could see the outline of this technique, though its origin was unclear—it was undoubtedly a dark and powerful magic.

The monk continued to cry out but didn’t last long before he turned into a lifeless corpse, his essence completely drained, falling from the sky.

His spirit core hadn't escaped; it fell with his body.

Lin Xuan’s expression grew even more grim. The techniques of the Spirit Realm were indeed far more mysterious and complex than those of the Mortal World.

However, being thousands of miles away, he could only express his admiration. Those nearby human cultivators, however, were terrified.

A Profound Void stage powerhouse with such bizarre tactics—how could they possibly resist? Staying here meant certain death, likely a tragic end.

The cultivators scattered in panic...

During this process, many unfortunate souls fell to their original opponents, but some were lucky enough to escape quickly, though they bore injuries.

Thousands of defeated warriors began desperately fleeing, coincidentally choosing the direction of their Spirit Vessels.

Frustrating!

Lin Xuan’s face darkened. This was truly a case where human planning couldn’t match divine will; despite his efforts, fate seemed against him without good fortune.

The defeated would flee here, and the sea clan wouldn't let any escape. Soon, they would be discovered and pursued relentlessly.

Lin Xuan sighed, realizing it would be foolish to stay. With no other options, he had only one choice: flee!

Even with such a high risk of being caught, it was better than waiting for death.

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