It was only now that Qin Fengming understood the terror of a late Nascent Soul stage cultivator. He also understood why late Nascent Soul stage cultivators, despite being in the same Nascent Soul stage, were respectfully called Great Cultivators by those in the Cultivation World.
Compared with a Great Cultivator, a mid Nascent Soul stage cultivator had no basis for comparison, whether in strength, techniques, or movement.
The difference was like that between a three- or four-year-old child and an adult. Such movement speed was already nearly on par with teleportation. Even if one brought out a magic treasure, it would be absolutely impossible to pursue even the slightest trace of the other party's figure.
With Qin Fengming's current strength, fighting a late Nascent Soul stage cultivator was no different from a moth flying into the flames—courting death.
No wonder Crimson Fiend Venerable, a disciple of Blood Demon Ancestor of the Baleful Intent Sect, despite possessing the formidable strength of the mid Nascent Soul stage, had immediately tucked his tail and fled into the distance without even daring to let out a breath when he saw his master, Venerable Dao Ling.
At this moment, even if Qin Fengming raised his hand and unleashed the Thunderous Talisman in his grasp, he could no longer perish together with the old man. He only felt that his arms weighed tens of thousands of pounds; he could barely move them at all. The magic power within his body was even more impossible to release in the slightest.
If he had not agreed to meet the old man's attack head-on back then, and had activated the formation earlier or used movement techniques to maneuver around him, he might still have had some chance of resisting. But now, he could only die here with regrets.
Facing