The instant his words fell, his figure vanished from where he stood.
A warning blared wildly in Blood Fiend Old Devil's heart, and every hair on his body stood on end!
Without a second thought, he tried to retreat.
But it was already too late.
A ghostly figure appeared soundlessly before him.
Less than a foot separated them.
Blood Fiend Old Devil could even clearly see those calm eyes, utterly devoid of ripples.
There was no killing intent in those eyes, no fury—only indifference.
As though he were not a person, but an ant that could be crushed at any moment.
"You..."
Blood Fiend Old Devil only had time to utter a single word.
Then a slender, fair hand gently pressed down upon the crown of his head.
There was no violent energy, no terrifying pressure.
Only an irresistible, incomprehensible force flowed from the top of his head into every limb and bone, into the depths of his Primordial Spirit.
"No—!"
Blood Fiend Old Devil let out a shriek so miserable it scarcely sounded human.
His body began to shrivel and wither at a speed visible to the naked eye.
His Tribulation Crossing cultivation, which he had always taken such pride in, and the essence of the blood path he had painstakingly cultivated for a thousand years, were, at this moment, like floodwaters bursting through a collapsed dam, frantically devoured and drained away by that hand!
The entire process lasted only three short breaths.
When Chen Changqing withdrew his hand, all that remained was a desiccated corpse, like dry firewood, its eyes wide open and its face filled with endless terror and unwillingness.
Thud.
The corpse toppled stiffly to the ground, shattering into a pile of drifting ash.
A towering figure of the blood path, Blood Fiend Old Devil of