On the arena, just as Niu Dali was hesitating, his eyes suddenly shifted. His mouth fell open as he saw a wisp of green smoke rise from Ji Chang's body, though they stood far apart. It seemed to be drifting up from behind Ji Chang's back.
The green smoke curled in thread after thread, like clouds on the horizon, gorgeous and dreamlike beneath the sunlight.
Yet the moment it clung to Ji Chang's body, it let out a sizzling hiss, like the sound of sulfuric acid eating through flesh.
His fine garments were burned away, and great patches of his skin, once supple and full of life, sloughed off, revealing bloody red blotches beneath. Dark crimson blood even spurted out.
Ji Chang did not even have time to cry out in pain before his entire body seemed to undergo the torture of a thousand cuts. With a series of wet slaps, hundreds upon thousands of chunks of flesh dropped away. He died on the spot, and within less than three breaths, the piled flesh melted into a pool of blood.
The only thing left undamaged was the flexible sword that had previously been wrapped around his waist.
Yes, he was dead. An Innate Master, a powerful figure who had cultivated the Heavenly Yin Divine Thunder—who, not long ago, had been high-spirited, wielding the forces of creation and commanding the divine thunder of heaven and earth, battling Niu Dali in martial arts like a Thunder God—had died so silently.
Niu Dali stared dumbstruck, scarcely able to believe it. He even suspected it was some illusion or trick of Ji Chang's, meant to make him lower his guard.
Yet no matter how he sensed or observed it, the result remained the same.
Ji Chang's aura had truly vanished completely. All that remained