Wei He watched with his own eyes as the bloody hole in Song Ting's abdomen slowly drew closed at a visible speed, turning into a thin line of blood that no longer bled.
Though it had not healed, that degree of muscle control was enough to ensure that, before his defeat, blood loss and poison would not drag down his combat strength.
Yes, Wei He knew very well that with such skill at controlling muscle and skin, his potent poison could hardly exert much effect.
After all, poison needed a medium through which to spread and diffuse.
For the human body, the usual mediums were blood and circulating force.
This might have been exceedingly lethal to ordinary experts.
But for Ming Gan experts, both their bodies and force had already surpassed the realm of ordinary people.
Moreover, their resistance was extremely high.
Wei He had verified this long ago with Zhu Chen.
Furthermore, the muscle-control ability Song Ting displayed was enough to sever many blood vessels around the wound and prevent the poison from spreading.
"Impressive!" Song Ting let out a long sigh. "It has been a long time since I was last injured. I never expected that coming down the mountain this time, I would truly be wounded."
He looked regretfully at Wei He charging toward him.
"No particular techniques or realms—merely ordinary stacking of strength, speed, and special effects—yet you have reached this level. Your talent is truly terrifying. What a pity. If only you had not become enemies with my Wushi Sect."
He truly felt the urge to nurture talent.
If he could take a genius like Wei He as his disciple and pass down everything he had learned in his life to him—
Just imagine it: with Wei He's terrifying talent, coupled with his own profound