That's It?

The moment his words fell, Xuanyuan took another step forward.

Thud!

It was as if that step hadn't landed on the wooden floor, but had shattered the last line of defense in Old Man Ying's mind.

The black shields surrounding Old Man Ying let out a crisp, glasslike wail. With a sharp crack, they crumbled completely, turning into countless black specks of light that were immediately swallowed by the invisible spiritual tsunami.

"Pfft—!"

Old Man Ying took a heavy blow and spat out a mouthful of black blood. It wasn't real blood, but pure energy leaking from his wounded Divine Soul, carrying a putrid stench. He shriveled like a branch drained of all moisture, his gaunt body hunching over as he began to cough violently. With every cough, more black qi spilled from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

Bracing himself against the floor, he struggled to lift his head. His cloudy eyes now held nothing but boundless terror and madness.

"Impossible... This can't be! How could some young brat possess such... such ancient, boundless Divine Soul power? You're not human! What kind of thing are you?!"

His voice was shrill and hoarse, like a wild dog pinned by the throat, his words a desperate cry of disbelief.

When cultivating the Divine Soul, foundations and time mattered most. He had cultivated painstakingly for a hundred years, devouring countless living souls to achieve what he had today. Yet this young man's Divine Soul was so vast it seemed to belong to a monster a thousand years old. No—to something more terrifying than any monster he had ever encountered! That power carried a savage, primordial aura, as if it had come from the dawn of creation, and an overbearing force that obeyed no reason.

Xuanyuan stopped and looked down at him. The