The five-colored curtain of light woven by the cultivators was clearly a specialized restriction designed to counter spell arts. After the seemingly devastating attacks crashed into it, the curtain didn't so much as waver.
Long Han's face brightened with a hint of delight when he saw this.
The thousand-plus cultivators who had flown forward were all elite disciples the Nine Nations Alliance had trained extensively — only they could deploy such a formation with such precision.
Having witnessed its power, Wei Wuya clearly hadn't been exaggerating.
The gaunt old man's expression turned grim when he realized his side's attack had been ineffective. But he didn't hesitate for a moment before issuing the order to attack again.
Amid the chanting of the Spell Warriors, the spells that coalesced this time were no longer simple fireballs and ice lances. Instead, fire crows and crystalline ice serpents gradually took shape in midair.
Naturally, compared to the first volley, the casting took considerably longer.
At that moment, a slight commotion stirred through the cultivator lines opposite. A squad of green-robed cultivators flew out from behind the barrier.
In unison, they unhooked the beast-controlling pouches from their waists and hurled them skyward. Mouths facing downward, the pouches spewed out streams of multicolored radiance, and from within the glow burst dozens of spirit beasts of every conceivable shape.
Three at the forefront were particularly extraordinary.
The first bore dragon horns atop its head, its body clad in gleaming white scales — a rare dragon horse. The second exuded a foul, sulfurous wind from its maws, a green-furred, two-headed demon lion. The last was the most terrifying of all: an enormous scorpion roughly fifteen or sixteen meters long, its entire body a deep crimson. The stinger on its back gleamed an ominous purple-black, a sight that sent chills down one's spine.
These were the formidable spirit beasts meticulously raised by the Spirit Beast Taming Sect of the demonic path. The instant they were released, they charged headlong toward the incoming barbarian beasts and the phantom spirit beasts conjured by the Spell Warriors, led by the three exceptional beasts at their head.
In an instant, demonic winds howled as the beasts clashed in a furious melee.
Though only the three leading spirit beasts could each single-handedly grapple with one of the barbarian beasts, the remaining spirit beasts were numerous and well-trained. Swarming forward in a torrent, they not only halted the barbarian beasts' advance but even gained a slight edge.
At the same time the spirit beasts surged forward, several thousand cultivators also took to the sky, splitting into five companies that charged directly toward the enemy. Along the way, they released their magic treasures, which rained down upon the Spell Warriors' lines like a relentless storm.
The spells the Spell Warriors had prepared this time were visibly more ferocious than before — they would never stand idle while the enemy completed their casting.
A dense storm of magic treasures hammered against the Mulan protective grand array like crashing tidal waves.
The gaunt old man's face darkened. After a cold snort, he barked an order, and a massive force of Spell Warriors also took flight. The two sides clashed violently in the high sky between their respective formations in an instant — spell arts, magic treasures, and spirit treasures wove together into countless streaks of light.
Within moments of the first engagement, several hundred people had their protective barriers and magic treasures shattered by the enemy. Their very bodies exploded and plummeted from the sky.
It was nothing short of a massacre.
But during that brief delay, the Spell Warriors' spell barrage had finished preparing.
Dozens of fire crows and ice serpents, as if brought to life, hurtled toward the cultivator army.
However, the cultivator army was now prepared as well. Before those attacks could land, countless spirit treasures and magic treasures surged skyward, destroying the majority of the fire crows and ice serpents in an instant. The few stragglers that slipped through were all blocked by the five-colored curtain of light. Though the curtain swayed several times, it posed no real threat.
Long Han, however, furrowed his brow at the sight.
It seemed that even the Nine Nations Alliance's defensive formation, powerful as it was, couldn't fully withstand more potent spell arts.
He took a deep breath and issued a cold command.
The cultivator army, sheltered beneath the five-colored curtain, began advancing slowly toward the Spell Warriors' lines.
At the same time, every cultivator deployed their magic treasures and spirit treasures, which hovered in the air as various hues of spiritual light or wrapped around their bodies as protection. Chants of every description rang out as the treasures blazed with power, each one poised to deliver a devastating strike at any moment.
The old man in the Spell Warrior camp saw this and a cold glint flashed through his eyes. He understood at once — the enemy was gambling on a preemptive strike, determined to deny them any more time to prepare spell formations. And judging by the situation, they truly didn't have time for another volley.
After issuing a similar command, the Spell Warrior army, sheltered beneath their own enormous barrier of light, also began advancing slowly toward the enemy.
The distance between the two forces shrank rapidly.
When only three hundred meters remained — close enough to make out the faces of the enemies opposite — seven soft popping sounds rang out first from the cultivator ranks.
Seven white jade talismans, solemnly activated by seven elders of the Luan Ming Sect, shot forward.
The moment they left their hands, the talismans transformed into seven streaks of white light that soared high above the Spell Warrior army. After circling once at a height of several dozen meters, they revealed their true forms.
In a cycle of contraction and expansion, earth-shattering thunderclaps erupted from within the talismans.
Then the seven talismans shattered, and seven blinding white orbs of lightning materialized.
They expanded rapidly.
In the blink of an eye, they had grown into colossal presences blazing like miniature suns.
Seven white suns, each more than thirty meters across, hung glaringly in the sky above the cultivator army.
The spectacle was so staggering that numerous Spell Warriors couldn't help but crane their necks upward, their faces filled with horror.
"No! Ancient talismans!"
The gaunt old man, who had been composed until now, turned pale with shock at the sight.
But before he could take any action, the seven white suns detonated in succession.
The sky above the Spell Warriors instantly filled with sizzling, scorching-white arcs of lightning, forming seven enormous nets of electricity that crashed downward.