You Ying was horrified. It was the first time he had shown astonishment.
His soul attack had actually been neutralized so easily?
How was this possible? What exactly was hidden within Yang Lingtian's sea of consciousness?
Before he could think it through, an even stranger and more overbearing force suddenly surged back along the previous soul connection.
"Chaos... Soul Thorn." Yang Lingtian's gaze turned cold, and his mind stirred slightly.
The power of his Primordial Spirit condensed into an invisible and intangible soul thorn. It flowed upstream and viciously stabbed toward the source of You Ying's soul.
This was a soul secret art he had comprehended from the Great Dao of Chaos. It was likewise formless and intangible, yet more condensed and far more penetrating.
"Pfft." You Ying was struck as if by lightning, and his body shook violently.
He felt as though his soul had been viciously pierced by a red-hot iron needle. The pain was unbearable.
"Ugh..." A muffled groan of pain that he could no longer suppress came from beneath the black robe.
You Ying's body began to tremble uncontrollably, while the black aura swirling around him grew chaotic.
For the first time, shock and pain appeared in his deep, hollow eyes.
"How is this possible? My soul attack was actually reflected back at me?"
You Ying's heart churned like a stormy sea, and he found it impossible to believe.
He specialized in the soul and had always been extremely confident in his soul power.
Yet now, he had suffered such a tremendous loss at the hands of a brat whose cultivation was far inferior to his own.
"Your soul power is nothing special."
Yang Lingtian's indifferent voice rang out, carrying a hint of mockery.
He took one step forward, and gray Sword Qi condensed once more