The black smoke was not only suffocating but also carried a cold and sinister aura. Qiao Tumen, in a daze, felt as if something cold in his internal organs was trying to wriggle and extend out, startling him to quickly hold his breath and focus, using his skills to resist.
Luckily, the black smoke came fiercely but dissipated quickly. As the flames burned, the black smoke rapidly thinned and scattered, and the body of the Jiao Dragon gradually turned into dust.
The flames slowly diminished.
Chen Yi lowered his gaze, looking at the place where the flames finally extinguished. Among the charred, curled-up remains, most had turned to ashes and indistinguishable burnt lumps, but indeed something remained unburned.
In the area where the Jiao Dragon's neck and chest were originally entwined, several black streaks protruded from the ashes.
A supervisor used the tip of his knife to carefully brush aside the covering ashes and debris.
The firelight focused on it.
