Qin De struggled desperately, only to find that he had no strength at all.
Previously, he was thoroughly sealed and imprisoned by Ning Zhuo.
"No——!" A massive wave of fear surged in his heart. He didn't want to die. He had barely escaped Cloud Prison, barely achieved Nascent Soul, and barely saw hope.
His own power was as if nothing; he could only resort to begging.
He implored resolutely, "Stop! Stop! Don't burn me, don't burn me anymore."
His voice emerged from the flames, hoarse and weak, like a dying candle in the wind.
"What a mess. It's like it's constantly changing hands." Ning Zhuo frowned, confused, yet he did not stop.
The flames continued to burn.
"You can't burn me! You can't burn me! I am... I am from Myriad Images Sect! I am a Golden Core Cultivator! I am... I am also a Confucian Cultivator! You can't burn me!"
Ning Zhuo raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself, "A Confucian Cultivator? Huh, he finally remembered?"
