Meng Zhao nodded, agreeing with Hong Tianzheng's concerns. In truth, he could not trust the other man on words alone.
Not everyone possessed martial wisdom and foundations as transcendent as his own.
However, since he had decided to do this, he naturally had his own plans and a certain chance of success.
With a thought, he raised his left hand. A thread as thin as a hair and as white as frost and snow slowly emerged from the tip of Meng Zhao's index finger. It swayed in the wind, long and supple like a serpent, yet tougher than diamond.
This thread came from the Eclosion Worm within Meng Zhao's body. It was one with him, like a human organ, and could produce silk threads.
Its texture was tough, impossible even for diamond to damage. Its piercing power was astonishing—a weapon born by nature, capable of killing without leaving a trace.
Meng Zhao had always kept it secret, hiding it as a trump card.
Of course, those were merely the silk's surface traits. Its true use lay in absorbing the essence and blood of living creatures.
Setting aside its ability to absorb essence and blood, it was exceptionally effective for probing the condition within a human body, grasping the flow of qi, blood, and meridians, and even studying the organs, bones, and other deeper aspects.
When Hong Tianzheng saw something resembling silkworm silk emerge from Meng Zhao's fingertip, flexible and ever-changing, he was greatly shocked.
They were standing close enough that he could clearly tell it was a physical substance, not something condensed from true qi.
It was simply—simply inhuman. What human could produce something like silkworm silk?
Ordinary people might have mistaken it for something demonic, but he would not.
Hong Tianzheng came from a great southern sect. Having traveled