Chapter 892: The Return Thrust

"Aah…!" Night had lain still as a held breath, yet from the crags came bloodcurdling screams, wails that could wake the dead. When the racket finally guttered out, Dao Zhi lay spread-eagled on the ground, flat as a pancake. "Goddammit!" Frank Yale's face darkened as he shucked off his trousers, fumbling to yank his briefs back on. For the Lord of the Celestial Court to lose face like this was an embarrassment of a very special kind. Whoosh! A cool breeze stirred. A shadow flickered and resolved...