The giant pit was shrouded in a misty light, with blood-stained ground at its edges, creating an exceptionally tense atmosphere.
No one expected that at the very last moment, one incident after another would arise.
Everyone was dissatisfied, some were furious, others had a surging killing intent, while some sighed with regret, some were stunned, and even more were near madness.
Li Qingxu's eyes were bloodshot. He had almost reached out and grabbed it, just a hair's breadth away from fleeing with the Furnace of Eight Trigrams and becoming the ultimate winner.
"Who?!" He had an urge to kill. Three times, he had been so close, and if he could have touched it just once, he could have ended the competition.
He knew that there would probably not be a fourth chance. Watching the Close Immortal Item slip through his fingers was an excruciating feeling of regret that could shatter anyone's composure.
