"Run!"
Ling Huan sensed Fang Yun's intentions and suddenly roared. His body turned completely transparent, wholly merging into the Void. At the same time, his immense Sacred Sense erupted, and above Fang Yun's head appeared an enormous Sacred Sense arm, a hundred thousand li tall.
That gigantic arm had no skin at all, exposing crimson muscles and white bones. Sacred Power flowed over it as it extended an index finger toward Fang Yun, piercing space, piercing the Void, infinitely close to a Saint Ancestor's strike.
Great Sage battle technique, Heaven-Earth Finger.
Fang Yun did not move.
The seventeen Half-Sage Spirit Race members turned to look at Ling Huan, not quite understanding why he had told them to run. The Spirit Race was no ordinary race. They specialized in Sacred Sense and possessed an extremely keen perception of danger. Even if Fang Yun could slightly manipulate the passage of time, they should not have been as utterly unresponsive as other Half-Sages.
But in the next instant, they understood.
A mirror appeared out of thin air before every Spirit Race Half-Sage. Its frame was mottled with verdigris, its surface oval, veiled in faint mist and marked by hairline cracks.
Every Spirit Race Half-Sage saw their own face in the mirror.
Seventeen mirrors hung in the air.
Crack...
All seventeen mirrors exploded. At the center of each mirror appeared an infinitesimal black hole, and within every black hole emerged an infinitely thin, pale-white thread.
The seventeen threads looked even more fragile than silkworm silk, but wherever they passed, Sacred Way permeated the air, space shattered, and the Void shook.
The seventeen Spirit Race Half-Sages were aghast. These were actually threads condensed from Sacred Sense—and a genuine inheritance of the Sea-Fishing Elder!
The Spirit Race had once considered themselves the strongest race in cultivating