Daoist Zhen Ru ran wildly through Linghuang Island's underground city, laughing maniacally. He had clearly gone mad.
Even ordinary Nascent Soul Cultivators possessed the ability to remain unmoved when faced with external circumstances. But the Devil's Great Curse could conjure obsessions from nothing within that tranquil state of mind, or magnify a tiny fixation many times over. Any small shock could shake the unstable mind of a man consumed by obsession.
Captured by a Golden Core Cultivator, refined into something like a spiritual slave, stripped of freedom...
Even submission offered no guarantee of survival... The other party's wanton tyranny was outrageous beyond all measure...
Rather than cling miserably to life, better to die in a blaze of glory!
Take that little devil with him!
Before that little devil noticed...
Daoist Zhen Ru had already calculated it all. That little devil's curse only targeted words he spoke aloud; it absolutely did not target what he thought in his heart—after all, the other party was only at the Golden Core stage and could not truly invade the mind of a Dividing the Spirit cultivator like him. He had tested it before. No matter how he cursed Wang Qi in his heart or uttered "forbidden words," nothing happened.
"That little devil must have designated many words as forbidden, intending to make me unable to express what I mean, unable to speak... But if I voluntarily open my soul for someone to inspect, he won't notice in time!"
"Yes. As long as I let Holy Emperor, or some other senior of the Emperor-Grade Heaven-Splitting Dao, search my soul, I can expose that little devil's entire conspiracy!"
Zhen Chanzi asked doubtfully, "How did you do it?"
Wang Qi closed his notebook and transferred it into a calculation-device terminal resembling a jade tablet. Calmly, he