But such a vast blood river would suffice to obliterate Mo Hua.
Mo Hua was submerged in the water, as if imprisoned within a boundless water prison, feeling suffocated and breathless.
Within the blood river, entangled with divine law, Evil God’s malevolent thoughts, and the power of bloody evil thoughts.
Like a poison to Divine Sense or the rotting water to Divine Thought, constantly corroding the Incarnation of Divine Sense of Mo Hua.
Mo Hua was engulfed by the Immeasurable Blood River, like a child drowning in blood, his small hands and feet futilely struggling, only to watch helplessly as he was swept away by the whirlpool, sinking towards the evil, aberrant riverbed.
The River God looked at this scene with a cold smile.
Yet moments later, its smile froze.
Something’s wrong…
A hint of alarm appeared in the River God’s eyes, and its expression grew increasingly solemn.
It felt the presence of something akin to the “Dao,” spreading at the riverbed, expanding, condensing, until… it erupted like a volcano.
In an instant, the blood river became an expanse of scarlet red.
Even glowing red.
But this red was not the red of blood, but the red of fire.
It was as if a volcano had erupted at the bottom of the river, with fiery eruptions scorching the water hot.
The surface of the river slowly began to boil, much of the blood water evaporating.
Within the vast blood river, a large expanse of blood water was inexplicably evaporated, and then the remaining blood water flowed backwards, swirling into vortices, and then one by one, all steamed into water vapor.
Cycling over and over, until the entire blood river was evaporated by the fierce, blazing fire.
The air lingered with dry heat.
White steam spiraled upwards.
The residual blood rain carried a scalding temperature.
And there stood Mo Hua, with blazing flames wrapping around him.
The endless blood river, burnt to nothing by him.
The River God took in a cold breath, its face tense.
Mo Hua slowly turned its head, looking at the River God, his little face grave, authoritatively uttering his technique:
“Divine Skills!”
“Karmic Fire Devours the River!”
The River God was taken aback, and finally couldn’t help but curse out loud:
“You brat! What nonsense are you spouting? Can’t I see that? You were clearly using a Formation just now!”
“It’s practically the same…” Mo Hua muttered.
The River God’s eyelids twitched violently.
Formation, Divine Skills…
In a certain sense, indeed, they are nearly the same.
But could such a level of Formation really be deployed by a human?
How profound a mastery of Formation is required to, within the Dreamland, through Divine Thought, instantaneously create such a powerful Formation?
At that moment, both the deity and its followers shared the same thought.
Can this little devil… really be considered “human”?