After such a long time, Zihào was utterly speechless. From beginning to end, he had not touched a shred of the other party's body.
Yet he himself had sensed the substance of the other party's attacks reaching him several times.
Although he had evaded them with his bizarre movement technique, Zihào knew perfectly well that among the figures darting and weaving rapidly around him, the other party's true body was indeed present.
The slightest lapse in vigilance would bring him a devastating, fatal blow.
Hearing those words from the other party, Zihào suddenly felt a rare sense of terror descend upon him.
Just as Zihào was influenced by Qin Fengming's words and grew especially cautious, a terrifying sensation—illusory as a dream, yet also deeply unsettling—suddenly invaded his mind.
The feeling came without warning. The instant it entered his mind, he immediately lost all perception.
Yet that strange sensation had only just surged into being when a boundlessly surging soul force immediately emerged within Zihào's body. The strange feeling that had just ensnared him vanished without a trace in an instant.
As the feeling disappeared, an icy chill suddenly swept through Zihào's entire body. Almost without hesitation, he flashed away to one side, moving faster than he had at any moment before.
At the same time, a mass of Red Mist abruptly surfaced over Zihào's body and wrapped him completely within it.
The instant Zihào's body flashed to one side and revealed an illusory form, a streak of red light appeared on the spot and pierced into his newly blurred body.
As the mist rolled and surged, a sudden scream of agony rang out.
"Eh? You actually recovered so quickly after being struck by this Qin's Nightmare Divine Ability? It seems you must possess some treasure capable of resisting this kind