At this moment, Nashya had completely lost his connection with heaven and earth. It was as though he had been struck down from the lofty skies into the dust below, leaving him utterly dazed and frozen in place.
His Death God had been shattered. The Death God Meditation Method he had painstakingly cultivated for over a hundred years had been knocked straight back to the sixth level. Though he could still faintly sense the few laws he had comprehended, he had lost all connection to them. They no longer existed for him.
He stared blankly ahead, toward Dole, his heart filled with utter despair.
He had cultivated so painstakingly for a hundred years, even painstakingly mastering the powerful witchcraft Death Deprivation, yet he could not withstand even a single move from his opponent. All those years of cultivation had simply gone to the dogs.
Nashya suddenly felt that all his earlier high spirits and wild arrogance had been nothing more than a clown performing before Dole, who stood there watching him.
And when the clown could no longer resist jumping out, Dole had simply slapped him back—back to his original form.
Loss, pain, terror—every emotion flooded his heart at once.
"Monster... this is a monster." The word suddenly surfaced in Nashya's mind. Then, retreating in terror, he shouted, "Monster! Monster!" and flew madly toward the mountain he had come from.
The black-robed men of the Shaman God Family saw this, and the corners of their mouths twitched.
Nashya's mind had been broken. He was ruined.
A ninth-level cultivator had been crippled so easily. Even Elder Zong's attack had been blocked. How could this opponent be so strong?
He glanced at Elder Zong, only to see the elder staring at Dole with an incomparably grim expression, his eyes brimming with endless