"You had served to prove my supreme art. You could die without regret."
The words he had memorized backward and forward stabbed into him again. Yu Ci felt that the dragon body's scales, seemingly a fortress of solid gold and iron, were like a fragile bubble that burst at a poke.
"Ahhh!"
Yu Ci howled at the top of his lungs. Return Manor was deserted; no one would care. Thus, he did not conceal anything, trying to vent all the agony through that roar. Unfortunately, it did little good.
Amid blue skies and drifting clouds, the thousand-zhang celestial dragon soared high and swooped low, stirring the void for a hundred li. Every sweep of its body brought flashing lightning and rolling thunder. Yet for all that dreadful majesty, it could not stop the "needle" piercing straight into the weakest part of its body. Wherever the God Slaying Thorn passed, every foundation of vital energy collapsed. By the end, it was no longer the God Slaying Thorn killing him—it was he himself killing himself.
The damage to the celestial dragon's body was not real, but the sensation was unmistakable. All the harm fed back into Yu Ci's spiritual level. Under that violent impact, his soul began to sway unstably, always on the verge of exceeding its limit.
Previously, Yu Ci had always been unable to endure at this point, causing the Illusionary Arts to end on their own. Over nearly twenty similar attempts in two days, the only difference had been how long he lasted.
But he was not someone content with failure, much less some wooden, witless fool who did not know how to learn from defeat. After nearly twenty attempts and several blackouts from exceeding his limits, he had gained some insights.
Dragon eyes as large as city gates