After a moment of contemplation, he finally sat cross-legged in front of the bronze furnace at the center of the temple. He bit his index finger, whispered some words, and started to write on the bronze furnace with his blood.
What he wrote seemed like words or perhaps charms. Flames surged from inside the bronze furnace, turning the surface hot as if grilled. As the blood was written on it, there was a sizzling sound as it quickly evaporated into a waft of green smoke, slowly rising and disappearing into the air.
Yinkun's face became increasingly pale as he wrote. When he finally finished, he exhaled deeply. His entire body was drained, his complexion deathly pale, as if exhausted.
As he was panting, a sudden burst of fire erupted from inside the bronze furnace, spraying out from the carved patterns.
Yinkun's face changed drastically as he quickly backed away. If he retreated too late, he would be swept up by the intense fire.
