This time, it was not only Yu Ci—even the demonic cultivator in the sky, wielding immeasurable divine intent, sensed it.
For no reason, an uneasy thought rose in his heart. Coupled with the fact that his original target had not been anyone else, just as he was about to adjust, the perilous state of "a hair hanging a thousand pounds" had already begun slipping in an irreversible direction.
Madame Yellow Springs had fallen completely still. From this distance, Yu Ci could feel her body temperature dropping; all basic bodily functions had essentially ceased. But was she dead?
No!
At least, not on the level Yu Ci could perceive!
"One breath" hung like "a single hair," suspending life and death, defying Heaven and Earth's laws. Its weight—how could it be measured merely in thousands or tens of thousands of pounds?
Yet it had still succeeded—even on the brink of collapse, even with its strength failing to follow through, at this very moment, it had ultimately held on.
And because of that, it could no longer maintain the "blurred visage" within Madame Yellow Springs's body.
Like a peerless divine weapon whose leather sheath had split apart, revealing its edge at last.
The timing was perfect. The demonic cultivator was in the midst of adjusting his immeasurable divine intent, and it naturally rose and fell. This tiny gap was seized at once; their auras drew one another in, one waning as the other waxed, and it became an unstoppable cascade!
"Wooo!"
A howling wind arose out of nowhere. Yu Ci, standing so close by, seemed in an instant to have fallen into the depths of endless ancient mountain ranges. Wind swept through the forests, and waves of pine roared; then, in a daze, he seemed to arrive above a vast and boundless ocean,