Even someone like him couldn't withstand a casual blow from Jiang Shu.
Just how high had Jiang Shu's cultivation reached?
Run! Don't stop!
"Whoosh!"
"Whoosh!"
"Whoosh!"
Every prodigy who had cultivated to such a level had the potential to become a Venerable.
None of them would let themselves perish here.
In an instant, prodigies from several races had already fled the battlefield.
Soon, only Jiang Shu, the trapped Ming Wuya, and a Peerless Genius from Star Pavilion watching from afar remained in Mirror Abyss.
Star Pavilion's rules meant he couldn't casually interfere in this kind of conflict.
Seeing this, Ming Wuya's pale face twisted into a knot. He hadn't expected the situation he'd so carefully orchestrated to be dismantled by Jiang Shu in just a few words.
"The lord was right,"
His voice grew even hoarser and more grating, like two sheets of sandpaper scraping against each other.
"You really are a variable."
Jiang Shu's eyes narrowed, then he smiled lightly. "So you finally admit it?"
Ming Wuya didn't answer. What he had just said had been conveyed through a secret art that only Jiang Shu could hear.
Then he suddenly bit through the tip of his tongue and spat a mouthful of blood essence onto the bone spear.
The blood wasn't red. It was a viscous, dark-blue liquid that gave off a nauseating stench of decay.
"Nine Hells Yellow Springs."
With a furious shout, Ming Wuya's skin cracked inch by inch, revealing dark-blue muscles beneath.
The muscles writhed like living creatures, rapidly tearing through the gray net.
His body grew to three zhang tall. Curved bone horns sprouted from his head, while his spine burst through his flesh and formed a segmented bone whip.
This was the Netherworld Race's true form.
A Yellow Springs body, abandoning everything from life