Beneath the reflection in that shard, the Tukan dramatist's expression was actually blank. Perhaps he still hadn't recovered from the shock and attack just moments ago, or perhaps the dislocation between the senses in the mental realm and the material world had left him unable to react.
Yu Lian had kept his eyes on the shard's trajectory. He reached out and drew a silver arc of light from thin air, grabbing the Silver Dragon's breath as if it were a javelin.
As the "glass shard" reflecting the master dramatist's figure passed in front of him, Yu Lian drew the silver javelin back over his shoulder, striking the stance of "Falling Star in the Long Night," then hurled it with all his strength.
Of course, striking that pose in the mental world wouldn't boost its power. But hey, he was at least a respectable Fifth Ring now, and the guy he was blasting was Thirteen Masks, the leader of the Snake organization—a proper old snake among respectable people! That called for a bit of ceremony.
In an instant, the javelin of light, seemingly condensed from moonlight, pierced into the shard, as though the projection connected to another world. Only then did the Tukan's face finally come alive. His expression was one of utter horror, as if his entire worldview had taken a crushing blow—like a mosquito that had suddenly flown into his house, then transformed into an alien.
Yu Lian almost laughed out loud. In his previous life, the scheming Mr. Dairo Keniu had worn that same expression when "Gray" ambushed him.
Of course, he didn't expect that one attack to kill his opponent outright.
After all, in his previous life, the master dramatist had already reached the Seventh Ring. His command of the mental realm had been so absolute that