Blood dripped from Second Elder Mu Bairong's palms onto the ancient stone altar in the central camp.
Even after pouring his Nascent Soul cultivation power into the barrier, it kept cracking anyway. The gold runic dome shuddered under another blow, fracturing like ice on a frozen lake near one of the nodes.
A thousand yards away, the beast was still roaring violently. Its wings unleashed gales of violet wind, tearing and chipping stones and nearby trees and hurling them against the golden barrier. The violent tempest rolled across the valley with the weight of a collapsing mountain, crushing the cultivators and slamming mortal soldiers onto the ground alike.
Mu Bairong spat blood and held the line anyway.
'I can't hold this much longer.'
Then, his spiritual sense flared.
