Boom.
A mass of burning flames scattered outwards.
An astonishing fracture appeared at the position before the crowd, and a cobweb-like crack spread across the sturdy marble floor. The redwood seats were also lifted and shattered into a pile of wooden debris by the air wave.
"Watch out!"
"There's something strange about this guy's sword!" Su Ziyu said with a rather grave expression.
Unlike the enemies encountered before, Shalivan the Pope's weapon was imbued with a terrifying corrosive power. The moment the flame touched Su Ziyu's skin, it began to burn like a bone-devouring curse. However, it had no effect on the surrounding environment. The flying wood fragments were completely untouched, as if the bizarre flame would only target flesh.
Su Ziyu had seen a similar flame before, which was Qing Ji's Fire of the Seven Emotions.
