Huo Hai's words not only cut off the old man's nonsense, but also made his eyes widen in disbelief. "Impossible! How are you still alive?" The old man looked as though he had spotted a rare animal.
"I poured ten years of painstaking work into the Death Mist. How could a mere Spirit Marshal withstand it? Wait, could you have a special constitution?" At that thought, the old man's eyes lit up. He immediately approached and reached out to feel Huo Hai's body. Had it been a beautiful woman, Huo Hai could have tolerated it. But being groped by a dirty old man was more than he could stand.
Huo Hai swept out his hand. "Get lost, you damned dirty old man!" What happened next left him stunned. The old man offered no resistance whatsoever and was flung straight across the room, crashing into the wall with a tremendous bang.
Huo Hai froze, then understood. "Haha, I get it! So that's how it is." Although he was weakened, his physical strength was still far beyond that of an ordinary Spirit Master. A Battle Spirit Master might have been slightly stronger than him under these circumstances. But a Poison Spirit Master? His physical strength really was nothing special.
Poison Spirit Masters were much like spellcasting Spirit Masters: they relied primarily on mental power, with spiritual power as support, and their physical strength was extremely poor. Even the old man himself had never imagined that Huo Hai could still unleash such terrifying strength.
Raising his head, the old man stared at Huo Hai in horror. His survival beneath the Death Mist had already been completely unexpected. What was this strength all about? Wasn't Huo Hai an Insect Spirit Master?
"Old man, you dared come looking for trouble with me. You're not leaving