Chapter 268: The Might of the Floating Ones

The next moment, seven or eight blazing suns blazed with intense red light, spewing forth dozens of crimson fireballs the size of fists—over twenty in total—racing toward the old monk.

Seeing this, the old monk's face darkened with fury; he raised both arms and flicked his ten fingers rapidly toward the incoming fireballs.

A chorus of hissing erupted!

Ten slender black crystal threads shot out from his fingertips, crisscrossing through the air like countless blades slicing through emptiness.

Most of the twenty-plus fireballs shattered and vanished upon being cut by the black threads—they were merely illusions.

But the remaining seven or eight fireballs, pierced by the threads, exploded into massive clouds of crimson flame, rapidly raising the temperature around them.

Wang Yu, who had been activating the Parent-Child Floating Mirror, changed expression and shot sideways a dozen feet away.

"Puff… puff…"

On the ground where he had just stood, over a dozen deep small holes suddenly appeared, surrounded by a glimmering frost—another cluster of nearly transparent crystal threads had silently ambushed him from low ground beneath the old monk's feet.

Had Wang Yu not activated Overclock Mode and gained senses far beyond ordinary humans, he would have been struck down.

Seeing his ambush discovered, the old monk no longer concealed his intent; his face twisted into a cruel sneer as he formed a hand seal, and dense black rune tattoos surfaced across his cheeks.

A piercing whistle pierced the air again!

From every part of the old monk's body, countless crystal threads erupted—over a hundred in total, half pitch-black, half crystal-clear—interweaving and flashing like countless slender swords stabbing wildly toward the opposite side.

"Embedding a treasure inside the body? Human-seal technique!"

Wang Yu's heart tightened at the sight; without hesitation, he formed two hand seals at once. The seven or eight red suns circling around him instantly halted their flight, most dissolving and re-forming into three pale red mirrors.

The three Parent-Child Floating Mirrors emitted a single hum; each surface bloomed with a crimson light shield, then rapidly reshaped and condensed into three red light shields that expanded wildly to over ten feet wide, their surfaces rolling with flames, stretching horizontally before and behind Wang Yu to form three layers of crimson light curtains.

"Sssss…"

The dense crystal threads arrived instantly, striking the crimson curtains with a sound like rain pelting a bamboo fence—but the next instant, the threads flashed brightly, grew indistinct, and pierced cleanly through all three layers without resistance.

"Wind-Fire Wheels!"

Wang Yu startled, instantly changed his hand seals, activating his fastest evasion technique.

The next moment, blue-red spiritual patterns reappeared and coalesced on his soles; two blue-red wheel-shaped shadows flashed once, and his body shot forward as a streak of blue-red crystal light.

In a blur, his form reappeared on the ground six or seven zhang away.

Wang Yu whirled his head in shock and anger, glancing at his left shoulder—his face darkened.

There, a blood hole the thickness of a finger had appeared; no pain came, but the entire shoulder had turned icy cold, beginning to stiffen and numb.

"Anti-magic artifact."

Wang Yu stared at the old monk and spoke slowly, word by word.

The old monk merely sneered; without any visible movement, the ejected crystal threads curled back on their own, intertwining and flashing in midair, slowly forming a massive net nearly an acre in size, still expanding wildly, nearly covering half the height of the tower's space.

Clearly, the next strike would leave Wang Yu with no chance to evade.

Wang Yu's pupils contracted, but his ears twitched slightly; a flicker of strange expression crossed his face, and suddenly he raised one hand.

The crimson curtain nearby transformed into a red mist, swirling back toward him, then condensed into three pale red mirrors before his chest.

"Puff." "Puff."

The three mirrors flashed crimson light and simultaneously spat out over a dozen crimson fireballs.

At the same time, Wang Yu formed a hand seal, murmured incantations, and pointed at the empty air ahead—another massive fireball appeared, then instantly split into two, two into four, four into eight—eight fireballs in total.

He shook his sleeve, and all the fireballs surged forward in a swarm toward the old monk.

"Pathetic Fireball Technique—what use is this?"

The old monk sneered, flicking his wide sleeve upward.

The already blurred giant net high above trembled slightly, and countless crystal threads of both types shot down from the sky, piercing every one of the fireballs just beyond the old monk's reach.

A muffled boom echoed!

All the fireballs dissolved in flashes of crystal light—except one. As it vanished, a black bead the size of a thumb emerged from within.

Its surface was covered in dense silver spiritual runes; a black crystal thread pierced its center, from which rhythmic thunder rumbled, pulsing faintly as it expanded and contracted, flickering with eerie electric light.

"This is—"

The old monk froze in surprise; before he could react, the black bead exploded with a deafening roar.

In that instant, a massive thunderball erupted at the point of detonation, thick silver arcs swirling and shooting outward in all directions.

The old monk roared in fury—and was instantly swallowed by a storm of crackling lightning.

The explosion shook the heavens!

The ground cracked, the air burned, and even the white light curtain—placed by Palace Moon herself to cover the entire tower level—trembled slightly under the thunderball's brilliance.

"Brat, using a one-time lightning artifact against me, a Human-Seal body with a Lightning Spiritual Root—what were you thinking?"

Amid the staggering flashes of lightning, the old monk's booming laughter rang out.

But the next moment, Wang Yu replied in a cold, emotionless voice: "Who said I used this thunder bead to kill you? It was just a diversion."

Within the lightning, the old monk—still forming a hand seal, his body glowing with an electric shield—startled and glanced through the dense arcs toward Wang Yu's position.

There, where Wang Yu stood, the three pale red mirrors had vanished; instead, three identical strange artifacts now hovered above his head.

Resembling prismatic cones, each had a long cylindrical tube at the front; with his centuries of experience, the old monk could not identify what kind of artifact they were.

Before he could think further, electric flashes erupted simultaneously behind the three strange devices; their long barrels glowed, and eleven golden spiritual runes appeared on each.

"No!"

Without hesitation, the old monk moved—blue lotus shadows formed beneath his feet, preparing to fully escape the lightning—but suddenly, a faint golden shadow flashed in from behind the lightning, lunging unexpectedly to seize the old monk from behind, pinning him in place.

"It's you!"

The old monk roared in shock and rage—just as Wang Yu's side erupted with three thunderous booms: "Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The three strange devices' cylindrical barrels trembled slightly; blinding silver light burst from their mouths, and countless golden rays shot out amid crackling electricity—so fast that the moment the light appeared at the muzzle, the golden rays vanished from the air.