Yao Zichong conjured a ball of fire in his hand and shot it at the vines wrapped around the man.
SNAP! With a soft crack, the surrounding vines went even more berserk. They whipped through the air, re-entangling the man just as he was about to fall, and yanked him up to the treetop.
"Ah!" the man cried out, followed by a sickening CRUNCH.
Four or five more vines instantly coiled around his body, and two more cracks were heard—CRACK, CRACK.
The man let out a pained wail. It seemed several of his ribs had been broken, and his arms now hung limply, apparently shattered as well.
Then, the man coughed up a mouthful of black blood and was instantly drained dry by the vines, becoming a shriveled husk.
The color drained from everyone's faces, and they all took a few involuntary steps back.
