"Ahhhhh---!!!"
A suppressed and restrained wail of misery erupted abruptly, echoing throughout the Great Hall and extending into the corridors of the tomb.
Even in the back hall, far away where the passageway was blocked, the atmosphere among a group of won tightened.
At this mont, the scorching candle fla had left Qin Jianfu’s two fingers and spread across Zhao Rong’s upper body, burning freely.
It was like a fire snake clinging to him, coiling and circling above the chest of the one-ard Confucian Scholar.
Neck, face, scalp, headscarf...
Every hair turned to ash, every piece of cloth disappeared in smoke.
Every inch of skin shriveled with scorch, every piece of flesh carbonized.
It was as if this ’fire snake’ had licked them one by one, its barbed tongue ruthlessly scraping off the charred flesh, then rolling it into its belly, continuing to lick after savoring the taste.
In the blaze, not wasting a single bit of the one-ard Confucian Scholar’s remaining flesh and residue...
Zhao Rong’s sword scabbard had long fallen under the coffin, his left hand firmly holding his burning face, wailing in agony as he fell from the Dragon Coffin.
Even though he was a Fu Yao Realm Martial Artist with the Flood Long Physique, his flesh was far from the Vajra Realm, impervious to fire and unbreakable.
At this mont, Zhao Rong’s body desperately curled up like a soft-shelled shrimp, painfully twisting on the ground, rolling desperately back and forth, trying to extinguish the flas devouring his flesh.
But to no avail.
The young Confucian Scholar being consud by the ever-intensifying flas, his remaining left hand desperately covered his face, his head sotis raised high, sotis buried low.
Fiercely struggling, consud by pain.
"Ahhhhhh... ahhhh!"
Right now, he was like a large piece of raw at, pressed tightly onto a charcoal heated iron plate by a spatula, gradually getting cooked, the aroma of at beginning to fill the air.
In the midst of the charred black, he appeared "leaner."
However, the price was the complete destruction of his upper body, becoming a disfigured wretch, neither human nor ghost, like so other disfigured old Confucian Scholar.
Qin Jianfu silently stood half a step outside the blood-red Hexagram.
A faint gray halo slowly emitted from the grey smoking pipe in his hand, enveloping and protecting his hunched body.
Qin Jianfu didn’t need to step into the blood-red Hexagram; he could control the candle fla to enter.
Moreover, Qin Jianfu had other magic tricks that could "enter" and force Zhao Rong out,
Did he really think that hiding in there left him helpless?
Unexpectedly, he was exposed with just one try, ha.
The disfigured old Confucian Scholar didn’t look at Zhao Rong, who was suffering a fate worse than death on the ground ahead.
He bowed his head, quietly watching the remaining small section of the wick between his two fingers.
It had lost its candle fla, more than half charred, only so pristine white thread remained.
But... it could never be restored to its original state.
The bereaved elder murmured lowly to the charred wick: "As a Confucian... as a minister... as a father, I may have wronged the Confucians, wronged the sages, wronged the ruler and people, but..."
"As a father, I must have been right by you."
In the silently burning magnificent hall, the elder’s silhouette was hunched and desolate.
He slowly raised his head, flicking away the wick in his hand.
At the sa ti, he glanced at the gray tobacco pouch in his hand, from which a brilliant halo was erging.
Still trying to locate to save soone? Ha, the thods and magic are outstanding, if it were face-to-face, this old man would surely run, but now with such a distance and this powerful treasure at hand... huh, it’s unknown how this little beast has so many powerful cultivators as protectors...
The elder coldly chuckled to himself, while his other hand made a decisive gesture, pointing at the gray tobacco pouch containing many things.
Instantly, a gray halo surged from the tobacco pouch, sealing its mouth tightly shut again.
So activities were imdiately suppressed.
And at the mont in front of the Dragon Coffin, aside from the series of agonized howls, there were frequent crackling sounds of at being roasted from the silently jumping and burning "candle fla."
Soon, a very rich aroma of roasted at diffused within the poorly ventilated Great Hall, the scent even seed to carry a hint of spices, making the at aroma even more delicious.
Qin Jianfu closed his eyes, gently raised his head, and took a deep breath.
Simultaneously, he attentively listened and savored those wonderful "sounds."
This is the proper taste of revenge.
After all the turmoil today, he finally got to enjoy it thoroughly.
At that mont.
It could be due to the additional autumn wind leaking from the Dragon Coffin, or perhaps an avenging elder didn’t want soone to die too quickly.
Or it could be that soone’s body was already so charred that there wasn’t much flesh left to offer anymore fragrant aroma.
The searing flas on Zhao Rong, who rolled on the ground like a beast gnawing his teeth, billowed intensely for a while, then dwindled and finally extinguished slowly.
Yet, the pain that gnawed at his bones as if grinding teeth remained like a cancer upon the soul.
Zhao Rong’s face blurred, half of his teeth were charred black, and the hand covering his face seed to have fused to his face, the flesh lting and solidifying together.
Earlier, in pain, he kicked several tis at the Dragon Coffin beside him, causing part of his body to extend beyond the blood-red Hexagram, and the sword scabbard was also pushed outside.
This even blurred the blood line of the Hexagram a bit.
All these proclaid the hollowness and uselessness of the strange pattern on the ground at the center of the Great Hall.
The empty city stratagem had completely collapsed.
Qin Jianfu opened his eyes and glanced at his ’masterpiece’ on the ground.
The one-ard Confucian Scholar covered his face with one hand, his body writhing in agony, moaning in pain.
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