She immediately turned to look and saw the middle-aged man convulsing on the ground, a dark, malevolent aura coiling around him.
"Uncle Master!"
The young cultivator cried out in alarm but dared not approach. Instead, he stumbled backward, turned, and fled into the storm with a startled cry.
Feng Jiu glanced at the fleeing cultivator, her brows furrowing slightly. In the next instant, a flame coalesced in her palm. Whoosh! It shot from her hand, streaking toward the convulsing middle-aged man on the ground.
"Ah!"
A piercing, shrill scream echoed faintly. The moment the flame struck, the sinister aura coiled around the middle-aged cultivator retreated as if encountering something dreadful, vanishing without a trace.
Feng Jiu stepped forward. With a flick of her intent, the flame enveloping the middle-aged cultivator split into three. One cluster hovered above his head, while two smaller ones settled beneath his feet.
