"Boom—!"
The golden fist shadow pierced through the dark-purple Soul Power barrier one final time.
Feng Ling flew backward like a kite with its string cut, crashing viciously into the center of the ruined street below.
Dust soared into the sky, and shattered stones scattered in every direction.
As the dust gradually settled, the scene within emerged.
Feng Ling knelt on one knee, her right hand clamped tightly over her chest.
Dark-purple blood continuously poured from between her fingers, soaking her tattered robes.
Her left arm hung limply at her side. The bones within had shattered into several pieces, barely held together by flesh and skin.
Her once-enchanting face was now pale as paper, while black blood mixed with fragments of organs continuously spilled from the corners of her mouth.
The life force of a rank ninety-eight Super Douluo had become like a candle flickering in the wind under the ongoing erosion of the Scar of Eternal Mourning.
At this moment, her eyes had lost all light, leaving only bone-deep terror and unwillingness.
Losing to a Soul King was already the greatest humiliation.
What truly drove her to despair was that she had lost this battle without the slightest suspense.
From the moment her attributes had been completely countered, the outcome had already been decided.
"It's over."
Xia Ming's voice came from the sky.
He slowly descended, his steps light, as though he had merely returned from a stroll.
He calmly watched the dying Feng Ling, without a victor's arrogance or pity for one about to die.
There was only an almost indifferent calm.
Feng Ling raised her head and stared fixedly at Xia Ming.
She wanted to ask why.
Why could a Soul King possess an ultimate attribute?
Why could he counter her so perfectly?
"You don't need to