Tens of thousands of willow tendrils fell like a waterfall, forming a jade lake above the heads of everyone present. At first, the cascading tendrils were a serene azure, but within a blink, they had grown into a vibrant emerald.
Tang Luo could feel the trembling in Gong Zheng's shoulder. Even though he was wearing a black spiritual armor, the powerful spiritual art was hardly a comforting presence. After all, two strong figures from the Fierce Realm had already been restrained by thousands of tendrils the size of arms, and there were far tens of thousands to face.
The descending willow tendrils formed a cage out of iron; the pressure felt inescapable and unavoidable. Merely being in its presence was enough to instill terror into anyone.
"Don't panic." Tang Luo squeezed Gong Zheng's shoulder, calming him down. The strongest member of the Du Family, after all, had not yet taken action.
