Bowl shattered, man died.
In an instant, Lei Yaoxing fell backwards. After a futile struggle, he bled out and died.
In the deathly stillness, no one spoke.
Only Ji Jue craned his neck, tilted his head back, and stared wide-eyed, practically wishing he could pull out binoculars and inspect it frame by frame—what the hell? What happened? How did that happen?
You could throw someone of Rebirth Rank into a furnace and burn them without killing them. Those with stronger defenses could take an anti-materiel rifle shot to the face without so much as having their skin pierced.
And yet, he had just had his throat slit by a coarse porcelain shard that bounced up from the floor, bleeding to death?
He did not even have the strength to struggle...
What kind of principle was that? How did that work?
Ji Jue's hair was practically standing on end.
He could not understand it, could not make sense of it, could not figure it out.
In that instant, all he had managed to sense was a wisp of Spiritual Substance fluctuation that surfaced when the porcelain bowl shattered. Quietly circulating, silent and fleeting, it swept through the mourning hall.
It pierced flesh and soul alike, claimed a life, and finally returned to the darkness.
There had been no drawn blades, no life and death struggle. It had simply carried out an execution with casual ease.
Everything had seemed far too natural, so utterly disconnected from the reality Ji Jue understood that it had even overturned it. What followed was a horrifying chill.
It engulfed everyone.
"So this is a White Deer Hunter..." he murmured in a daze.
Tong Shan turned back to look at him. "Can you understand it?"
Ji Jue shook his head without hesitation.
"That was the White Deer