A wave of agony had already spread throughout Qin Fengming's body, filling his heart with sudden terror. The crisis had come far too abruptly. Within the range of his spiritual sense, Qin Fengming saw a streak of silver light carrying a spray of blood as it shot away.
He was terrified, but his mind remained clear. The attack had appeared too suddenly and swiftly. Although he had dodged the vital area by a hair's breadth, his arm had still been wounded.
Once he steadied himself, Qin Fengming immediately looked toward his agonizing right arm. A vicious glint suddenly burst from his eyes.
The bone in his right upper arm had been broken, held together by only a strip of flesh. The entire arm hung limp, completely crippled. Agony spread throughout his body, driving the shock and fury in Qin Fengming's heart to its peak.
Yet to a Mahayana cultivator, a broken arm truly did not count as a serious injury. But to Qin Fengming, this was the first wound he had suffered in all his years of battling others. He was furious at this enormous loss. He had been ambushed, and he had somehow failed to detect it beforehand. That was worth reflecting upon.
If the attack had been even more powerful, he feared that he would have suffered more than a broken arm. His life might even have been in danger.
Just as Qin Fengming's spiritual sense locked onto an illusory figure, his expression suddenly changed again. He let out a furious shout: "Damn it! That short blade actually contained a deadly poison!"
His cry rang out across the air. Suddenly, a mass of black light surged from Qin Fengming's broken right arm. As the black light flickered, the wound had already turned glossy black. The dark, glistening flesh