After a few more moments, the blood cloud remained hazy without the slightest noise coming from it. When those little ghosts approached the densest area of the fog, they would immediately be cut into shreds; no activity could be discerned.
At this moment, Wang Chan could sit still no longer. His two hands formed a seal, and the skulls floating on the surface of the blood cloud opened their mouths wide. Ten or so black columns of light as wide as a bowl shot out, heading directly towards Han Li’s original location from all directions.
“Peng” A light tremor sounded out.
Within the dense fog, a faint white light flashed and moved about; in the fierce collisions between the black and white colored streaks, a white screen of light became faintly discernible inside the dense fog, slightly startling the Ghost Spirit Sect’s young sect master. However, immediately afterwards he recalled the white scale shield that Han Li had tossed out from the very beginning.
