One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
That bulging region of space finally held out to its limit.
A muffled boom came from the depths of space.
The sky above the entire Arena was like a shattered mirror, countless silver-gray cracks exploding outward in all directions from that single protruding point.
The cracks spread at an unimaginable speed. In the blink of an eye, they covered the sky above the entire Arena, forcing even the golden giant net of laws to one side.
Then, all the cracks shattered at once.
From the depths of the fractured space, an enormous spatial hand reached out.
That hand was formed entirely from silver-gray spatial power, its palm ten zhang wide and its five fingers like pillars.
The lines in its palm were surging spatial folds, every fold containing enough power to twist mountains.
The hand emerged from the shattered space and came crashing down upon Zhao Guangyin's head.
This palm strike did not descend quickly.
Yet within the range covered by that palm, the very concept of distance failed.
Zhao Guangyin stood at the center of the Arena. No matter which direction he tried to evade, the distance between him and that palm remained exactly the same.
Because Phantom Spirit had completely erased the spatial distance between him and that hand; the distances in all ten directions had been reduced to zero.
Zhao Guangyin could not escape.
Nor did he intend to.
He watched the silver-gray giant palm that blotted out the sky descend toward him, feeling the surging spatial power in its palm crush down inch by inch.
His white robes were pressed tightly against his body by the spatial pressure, his white hair pulled apart by spatial folds and sent flying in every direction, red marks appearing across his skin where space