Shen Ao's weathered, battle-scarred face was mottled with blood. A thin cut had been sliced across the center of his brow, radiating a dark halo that flickered like a candle flame wavering between light and shadow.
Shen Ao gently stroked his forehead, his fingertips pressing over the cut. Shock and dread surged through his heart like a rising tide. The primordial spirit he had cultivated through the Four Extremes Demonic Art had nearly been severed by a single slash. It was simply inconceivable.
One had to know that his Four Directions Demonic Skill was one of the martial arts through which the Earth Demon lineage sought the Dao. It stood at the absolute pinnacle of the Nineteen Provinces; calling it the strongest would not be an exaggeration.
The Four Extremes primordial spirit cultivated from it was guarded by the Four Spirits and bolstered by fist intent. It might not have been impervious to every art under heaven, but it came very close.
Xiang Yang had only just entered the Heavenly Being realm, yet he had wounded Shen Ao with his primordial spirit and nearly killed him. Shen Ao could not make heads or tails of it, no matter how he pondered it.
Especially at the instant Xiang Yang struck, Shen Ao seemed to see a thin blade carrying a streak of white blade light as it shot toward him—utterly solid, utterly sharp, utterly powerful. In the end, it tore through every layer of defense within his primordial spirit, its edge terrifying beyond measure.
This was precisely the achievement Xiang Yang had attained by condensing a Blade Soul. Without such power, such an unfathomable accomplishment, why would Xiang Yang have endured every hardship and even agonizing torment to cultivate it?
"Indeed, Manor Lord, your martial path is truly extraordinary. Xiang has