Someone suddenly appeared on the teleportation formation, clearly having descended from the floor above.
Catching sight of the person's appearance, the group froze, their expressions instantly shifting in dread.
The newcomer was a woman wearing a half-mask. Her hair was entirely white, giving her the look of an old crone, and she wore an exceptionally vibrant, breathtakingly colorful robe intricately traced with bizarre patterns in gold thread.
Gazing at the patterns upon the robe produced an uncanny sensation of being pulled in helplessly, as though an exquisite paradise were hidden within them—thoroughly bizarre.
Qin Sang had never met this person, but he had heard much of the renowned Grand Shaman.
Furthermore, the terrifying pressure radiating from the old woman was more than enough proof of her identity!
The Witch Clan's Grand Shaman!
A late Nascent Soul expert, one of the foremost powerhouses of the Canglang Sea!
"Lady Shaman!"
The man surnamed Di cried out involuntarily, looking as though he were on a holy pilgrimage.
Unexpectedly, the Grand Shaman did not spare them a single glance. Tapping her toe lightly against the ground, she floated upward without the slightest trace of mundane effort. Her robe fluttered, and the golden threads sprang out as if alive, weaving together behind her back into a pair of golden wings.
In that instant, the Grand Shaman looked like a butterfly, her posture breathtakingly graceful.
Right then, the teleportation formation flared to life once more, and a square-faced, middle-aged man stepped out.
His features were resolute, and his aura was not in the least inferior to the Grand Shaman's. A strand of wondrous light coiled around his body. Sweeping his tiger-like eyes across the space, he locked his gaze onto the wing-spread Grand Shaman.
The moment Qin Sang saw that strange light, a sensation of familiarity surged in his heart.
Within the strange light, crimson surges churned, seemingly imprisoning countless evil ghosts cackling with sinister laughter, desperate to devour their minds and souls.
"The Lunar Heavenly Ghost Divine Light! He is the Demon Lord!"
Qin Sang felt a chill run through him. He had never expected to encounter both the Demon Lord and the Grand Shaman at once—let alone running into them right as their own party was about to step onto the teleportation formation.
"Leave it behind!"
With a dark expression, the Demon Lord glared fixedly at the Grand Shaman and abruptly struck.
The Lunar Heavenly Ghost Divine Light transformed into a barrage of radiant beams and shot forward with peerless majesty, surging out like vast ocean waves.
Demonic energy erupted from within the divine light. The ghostly apparitions wore vicious sneers, shrieking with soul-rending cries.
For a moment, the void seemed filled with the unified weeping of ten thousand ghosts, turning the space into the Nether Hell and chilling everyone to the bone.
*Whoosh!*
The wondrous light plummeted from above, aiming straight for the Grand Shaman.
"All treasures in the Hall of Seven Kills belong to no one. Fellow Daoist truly lives up to the title of Demon Lord—tyrannical as ever. You don't even know what it is, yet you dare try to seize it by force!"
A mocking smile curved on the Grand Shaman's lips. Her silvery, bell-like laughter rang through the void, after which the wings behind her flapped violently. Golden radiance blazed around her, transforming into a sea of gold.
Seeing that the strange light was about to collide with the Grand Shaman,
terror seized Qin Sang's expression, and he yelled, "Look out!"
Red and white light suddenly flared around him. He had simultaneously activated both the Nine Dragons Heavenly Chariot Talisman and Sword Qi Thunderclap, shooting sideways dozens of zhang in a flash as he fled for his life without looking back.
Qin Sang had witnessed in the Lesser Cold Domain just how horrifying the scale of a clash between Nascent Soul Patriarchs could be.
Not to mention these were late Nascent Soul powerhouses—terrifying beings that did not even exist in the Lesser Cold Domain.
Even if merely grazed by a single aftershock of the battle, they wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance. Without the slightest ability to resist, staying here was certain death.
When the Grand Shaman and the Demon Lord clashed, they would never care about the lives of mere ants.
The others' reactions were scarcely slower than Qin Sang's.
The woman surnamed Yin produced a flying shuttle, turning into a streak of silver light. She was only a step behind Qin Sang, though her flight speed fell far short of his.
The man surnamed Di had been lost in reverence as though gazing upon a deity, but the sight snapped him right back to reality, drenching him in cold sweat.
He slapped his dantian with force, and the phantom of an eight-winged insect abruptly manifested around him, carrying him off in a different direction to flee for his life.
The elderly woman hurriedly produced a spirit talisman, a look of heartache flickering in her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she activated the talisman, yet her speed was still slower than Qin Sang's.
Just as they were fleeing desperately,
the Lunar Heavenly Ghost Divine Light plunged into the golden radiance like a meteor crashing into the ocean.
There was no ripple, nor any tremendous boom. The void fell dead silent, as if time itself had frozen.
The next instant,
the golden ocean collapsed.
The Lunar Heavenly Ghost Divine Light fractured inch by inch. The demonic energy within was eradicated, and the evil ghosts let out silent shrieks as their bodies shattered.
Immediately afterward, a terrifying shockwave abruptly erupted from the center of the collision, spreading outward at an alarming velocity.
As the golden light dispersed, the Grand Shaman's figure trembled slightly. There were no wounds on her body, and her colorful robe remained undamaged; only the wings on her back had dimmed significantly. True essence surged within her, and the golden wings quickly regained their brilliant shine. With a gentle flap, they carried her fleeing into the distance at top speed.
The Demon Lord gave a cold snort. Demonic energy surged in his palm, condensing into a black saber. Slashing out a blade-light, he carved open a path, and with a flicker of his figure, chased after her in hot pursuit.
The two vanished one after the other.
From beginning to end, neither of them had spared a single glance for the bystanders.
Meanwhile, Qin Sang and his companions were groaning in despair.
Just as expected, the aftershock of the battle erupted. Shards of golden light mingled with demonic energy, hurtling toward them with terrifying speed.
Among the five of them, the cultivator surnamed Wu—who had previously commanded the small shield—was half a beat too slow at the crucial moment. He was instantly swallowed by the aftershock, obliterated without leaving so much as a trace of bone or even a chance to scream.
Even his magic treasure, that small shield with commendable defensive power, vanished without a trace.
Someone who had just been conversing with them moments earlier had died in absolute silence, wiped out simply by being caught in the fallout of a clash between two supreme experts.
Horror seized everyone present.
Qin Sang flew a great distance in a single breath, yet the lingering chill on his back refused to fade. Glancing back, he saw that the aftershock was still spreading. Although its might had weakened considerably from the start, its speed remained astonishing.
At this rate, there was no way he could outrun its reach.
At the same time, he caught sight of the elderly woman behind him. On the verge of being overtaken by the aftershock, she was looking toward him in terror, her eyes seemingly begging for help.
The power of the talisman around her had grown paper-thin, clearly unable to last much longer.
Qin Sang's heart sank. Then, remarkably, he pulled to a halt, wheeled around, and rushed toward her. With a flash of light from the bracelet on his wrist, the two-headed hou bounded out.
Surprise and gratitude flooded the elderly woman's face.
"Work together to withstand the aftershock!" Qin Sang barked in a deep voice as he summoned the Ten Directions Yanluo Banner.
The moment he had sensed disaster earlier, he had already retrieved the demonic banner.
This was for his own survival as well; the shockwave was moving too fast for him to outrun, so staying calm to face it was the wiser choice. An extra person meant extra strength, giving them that much better a chance.
Moreover, the elderly woman's cultivation was not weak, and she possessed magic treasures skilled in defense.
Sensing the aura of the incoming shockwave, the two-headed hou bristled, its fur standing on end. It shot Qin Sang an indignant glare, then lowered its heads slightly. Green light shot from its vertical pupils, whipping up a tempest that swiftly compressed inward into the shape of a shield.
Dropping down beside them, the elderly woman caught her breath and immediately grasped Qin Sang's intention. Hurriedly channeling her bronze mirror, she knew this was no time to spare her treasure, placing the mirror's true form directly in front as a vanguard.
In an instant, the bronze mirror, demonic fire, and wind shield formed a three-layered barrier.
The shockwave arrived.
The silhouettes of the two cultivators and their beast were engulfed.
Chapter 782