The Yellow-Robed Daoist froze, then instinctively glanced at Chen Luo.
...He was still deeply poisoned, still unable to move.
Was he still bluffing?
That was the only possibility. Yet for some reason, the Yellow-Robed Daoist felt an ever-growing unease.
In the end, he made a decision he would never have made before.
—No more torture. He would kill his opponent quickly and cleanly!
His body of gu insects sank, and dozens of long black needles emerged from thin air, all aimed at Chen Luo's vital points!
But there was a problem.
Even now, Chen Luo was still smiling.
He simply looked at the Yellow-Robed Daoist and spoke mockingly.
"Old bastard, getting impatient now? But have you considered that I might be deliberately goading you into attacking...?"
The Yellow-Robed Daoist's hand stopped immediately. —That's right. If this fellow really is provoking me into attacking so he can die quickly... no, perhaps it goes even further. He might have held back some means of counterattack that he can only use on the verge of death...
A jumble of thoughts flooded his mind, leaving even the Yellow-Robed Daoist uncertain.
But soon enough.
He realized what was wrong.
—Without noticing, he had lost his composure.
And he had lost it despite holding an absolute advantage.
...How is this possible? I might not be known for my willpower, but I've spent so many years navigating the martial world. How could a few words throw me into such an inexplicable panic?
Unless...
Without his realizing it, his opponent had made him feel an almost instinctive sense of impending death.
A terrifying thought surfaced. Although he knew the possibility was practically nonexistent, the Yellow-Robed Daoist still let out a shrill cry and gathered all his gu insects.
Even that seemed enough to him now. He raised his