Chapter 140

How is this possible?

Zhuang Weinan furrowed his brows, watching Lin Mo's movements, finding it hard to imagine how the other man accomplished this.

Controlling fire and fire-based spells are two different things.

The former is mastery over Dao fire; even if one can form shapes like "fireball" or "fire blade," the attack only delivers basic Dao fire damage and cannot reach spell-level damage.

Fire-based spells directly enhance the base damage of Dao fire and add additional offensive effects.

"What is it?" The old Daoist swept the ground seriously, as if the visitor were not his disciple but an ordinary passerby asking for directions.

Lin Zheng's toneless voice extinguished Wang Yang's anger; he slumped down, hugging his head.

"I can feel it—Hou Qing's terrifying power is continuously flooding into my body," Liu Lun laughed loudly.

Thinking of this, Ning Hao's face grew grim; even if he knew he'd be punished by his father upon returning home, he still had to go back.

If this way allows the spiritual liquid to be produced continuously, then in the future, he won't fear running out of it when cultivating any herb.

Above, four figures intertwined constantly; among them, the golden figure was the most formidable, holding his own against three opponents without yielding an inch.

The middle-aged man was speechless; he hadn't expected Chu Tian Dao to be so loyal and righteous, daring to openly rebuke and question Chu Tianyi for his brother's sake.

The back courtyard of Xi Shen Inn was dark and gloomy; after turning into a corpse, the reanimated corpse would violently attack when threatened. Wearing cotton-padded robes hindered movement—it might be exploited, so he had to consider this possibility.

Xue Yaozi knew he had likely encountered a powerful being, one stronger than his own Eighth Tribulation Immortal Sovereign realm.

This monster, though possessing a soul, had a soul no longer its own; in the East, he had never seen such a creature before.

"I've always seen you talk plenty in front of me—why do you turn into a mute in front of my brother?" Gu He tapped Lin Yaozu's forehead, sighing, "Never mind, let's drop it." She knew her husband's nature—he was simple and earnest, making it hard to get even a single kind word out of him.

Lü Qingyang shook the black bell toward Bai Zhi again, chanting the incantation; Bai Zhi closed her eyes, swung her staff, and struck Lü Qingyang's crown.

After a long while, the middle-aged man sensed something odd—this man was different from those who usually came.

Gu Zian glanced toward the sound; through the glass of the "door," he faintly saw the assistant muttering impatiently, while Gu Quan sat calmly in the reception room, his face devoid of any impatience—if one looked closely, one would notice it wasn't absent, merely concealed extremely well.

When An Ze yi sang opera, his voice was tender, lingering, and intoxicating, deeply pleasing to the ear, with a haunting quality deep within its tones.

"Go and investigate every detail outside, then report back to me!" Chu Cangyan ordered.

After Xiao Zong vanished, the capital searched extensively for this "former dynasty prince"; Erzhu Rong, Buwang his origins, sought to use him to control Xiao Baoyin and Xiao Yan, so he made up his mind and shaved his head clean, becoming a monk outright.

For him, in a foreign land, a soft sigh from Shengge Qianqian was enough to ferment his longing into rich, intoxicating fragrance.

He let others see his most private part and even had it cut—so he had to drag his old friend, his ageless companion, over to get cut too.

"My parents never oppose me—if I say it's my idea, they'll accept it," An Mier said lightly.

Near the airport were hotels and guesthouses; he went to buy tomorrow's plane ticket, then returned to Hong Kong.

His turtle punch, like a giant mallet, landed many blows on Siticai, yet none could break through Siticai's defense. Such a straightforward attack pattern was not hard for Siticai to block firmly.