Even though the weeds were damp with dew, the roaring Flame still scorched the ground with a sharp crackling sound.
In the pitch-black night, the Flame illuminated the surroundings, its light flickering across the faces of Lu Yuan and Brother Pingtou.
Not far away, several birds, startled by the firelight, flapped their wings and fled.
Lu Yuan flicked a finger of his left hand, and the birds were knocked unconscious, drifting down to the ground.
Brother Pingtou turned to look at the Flame and shouted with a hint of defiance, "Kid, you're not going to roast me, are you?"
Lu Yuan remained silent.
After a dozen or so seconds, seeing that the grass was mostly burnt, Lu Yuan retracted the Flame.
He then flicked his sleeve, blowing away the soot and ash to reveal a clean clearing about seven or eight meters in diameter.
Lu Yuan produced a stool and sat down, placing Brother Pingtou, whom he had been carrying, on the ground.
