The eight arms kept grabbing, the dark flame rolled, as if there were countless souls tearing, the shrieks pierced the void, the whirlpool of blackness was shrinking, the breath of Yi Yu seemed to be weaker and weaker, it seemed that the oil lamp had withered, but it was declining and endlessly, still struggling to support.

no matter how the evil spirit and the emperor work, the fire of Yi Yu's soul has never been extinguished, and the energy of bombarding in has the feeling of sinking into the sea.

"no!"

after all, it's the peerless magic emperor who has cultivated for thousands of years. He has not only profound...