"Old Lu, you can stop talking now."
Xu Yi cut off Desolate Ancestor's endless chatter.
He smiled. "Actually, the four of you should have been dead. But Old Su's words struck a chord with me. To reach your level, each of you must have gained countless fortuitous opportunities and enjoyed far too much of Heaven's favor. To die like this would be an affront to Heaven's will. So I'll give you a chance to live. But first, there are some scores we need to settle."
With that, Xu Yi flicked his fingers. Qi Jingfeng, Qi Miao, Desolate Ancestor, and Old Demon Su all clutched their heads and howled.
With cultivation at the True Core Late Stage, there was almost nothing left in the world that could hurt them. Even if they suffered grievous injuries in battle, the pain itself was nowhere near enough to torment them.
It was as if, once cultivators reached their level, their pain receptors had been refined away.
But now, searing agony flooded every pore. Even their hair seemed to sprout an endless stream of pain, relentless and impossible to resist.
Strange ripples wriggled beneath their skin, like waves surging under the surface. Every time they swept through, the pain multiplied.
The four strongest beings in the realm tumbled through the air, clutching their heads and shrieking like helpless infants.
Old Demon Su was the first to recover. Sweat drenched him, and a sickly green Qi tinged his face. His eyes were vacant. Only when the Qi brothers stopped screaming did he come to his senses. The moment his peripheral vision caught Xu Yi, he couldn't help shuddering.
Regret flooded his heart like a river bursting its banks. Why on earth had he gotten himself mixed up in this mess?
Desolate Ancestor was the last to