Before them lay a pool of blood ten zhang in diameter, filled with blackish-purple liquid. The blood seemed to be boiling, churning and bubbling. Suspended in the air, directly above the center of the pool, was a bone staff three feet long; its handle was a skull, and its shaft was made of a shinbone. The staff was an unnaturally stark white, surrounded by a mass of tangible black mist that emitted a faint, flickering light.
Li Zhuo finally spotted the formation eye. Unable to contain himself any longer, he waved his hand, hurling a fireball toward the staff. The fireball had barely left his hand, not even reaching the edge of the pool, when a bowl-shaped dome of light appeared, inverted over the entire blood pool. The fireball struck the barrier and vanished like a stone cast into the sea, leaving no trace. The light dome flickered and faded with the extinguishing of the fireball, as if it had never existed at all.
Li Zhuo was struck with terror and dared not strike again so recklessly. Li Qiu, however, silently stroked his chin. He extended both hands and, with a solemn expression, began to cast a water-ball spell. He moved with measured deliberation, channeling thirty percent of his spiritual power. A five-foot-long water arrow materialized in his hands. Unlike the water arrows he had cast before, this one was a deep, verdant green, its surface churning so violently it seemed as if it might burst forth at any moment.
Chapter 42