The Yang Corpse before them, infinitely strong and blazing with radiance, was clearly just a corpse, yet it emitted the same kind of light as the God he worshipped?
Before long, the Young Taoist ran out of strength, giving the Yang Corpse an opening. As the spear was about to thrust down, Mr. Zhao struck, catching the Yang Corpse's thrust with a Ruler.
"Now!"
The Young Taoist shouted, glared at the Yang Corpse, and the pupils burning in his eyes suddenly sprayed out searing orange-red flames like a flamethrower. In an instant, the Yang Corpse was completely shrouded in fire, and the Young Taoist took the chance to retreat a step.
But the Yang Corpse didn't let out the miserable scream the Young Taoist had expected. After the Young Taoist retreated to a safe distance and steadied himself, he took a careful look and saw the Yang Corpse neither struggling nor screaming in the flames.
No struggling and no screaming meant the fire wasn't hurting it.
