A Saintly Showpiece

Once the billowing dust had been swept away by the violent wind pressure, the ground beneath Xu Yuan's feet had already become a massive crater. Wood chips and shattered stones rolled everywhere with a clattering rustle, leaving not the slightest trace of the marketplace it had once been.

That strike should count as a success.

The gap between Mortal Shedding and a Saint was immense—the gap in Source Qi, physical constitution, and Saint Source—but none of those gaps were so great that they could not be bridged.

In recorded history, there had been more than one instance of Mortal Shedding cultivators surrounding and killing Saints. Meticulous preparation, mutual coordination, and compatibility-based suppression could all become bargaining chips for Mortal Shedding cultivators to slay Saints against the odds.

Looking down at Mu Xingyi, who was struggling to rise in disarray within the crater, Xu Yuan hovered in midair and thought as much. His indifferent voice echoed through the surrounding darkness:

"If you still refuse to let Madam Wan and your son show themselves, you may truly die here."

"..."

There was no answer from within the crater, only a scalp-crawling rustling sound.

Mu Xingyi did not maintain his human form through a transformation method like the Demon Race. Rather, he had forcibly stuffed the insect-man's body beneath a human shell.

The attack just now had already left him unable to maintain his human form. His body split open along threadlike seams across its surface, countless slender bladed legs protruding from within, while pairs upon pairs of insect compound eyes spiraled out from his skin.

Seeing the other party's ugly true form, Xu Yuan raised a brow slightly.

It seemed Mu Xingchen had not lied. The Insect Saint was a creature without a Will Soul. It perceived its surroundings solely through its