The Dharma Form brought its fist crashing down, bearing the vast, irresistible might of the Netherworld.
At the sight, Xuan Cheng went pale with horror.
He beat his wings and hastily unleashed his divine ability. Layer upon layer of dreams arose, and in an instant, he stood shrouded in a haze.
His second life-bound divine ability: One-Dream Body.
Once he unleashed this technique, he could turn himself into something within a dream. All spells and techniques that struck this body would pass through as though hitting empty space, leaving no trace. Only divine abilities that targeted the soul could exert even a slight influence.
Hidden within his dream, Xuan Cheng breathed a little easier. That was a close call.
But in the next instant, the fist swelled before his eyes.
Like a mountain toppling, like a star crashing to earth, it smashed straight into the dream with the force of crushing dry wood and rotten timber.
Boom!
The fist struck its target squarely.
Xuan Cheng felt as though that punch had pierced the boundary between dream and reality, striking his soul directly.
Bang!
With a burst of searing pain, the colorful butterfly was plastered against the enormous fist, embedded deep in the boundless darkness.
A long while later, a colorful butterfly struggled up from the ground, wobbling as though drunk. The dazzling glow of his body had all but gone out.
With difficulty, Xuan Cheng turned his head and looked a short distance away.
A puddle of mud lay there quietly.
Under that punch, Chang Le's clay vessel had been flattened into a shapeless mud pancake. There was not a trace of flesh or blood.
I fear there's no escaping today.
Xuan Cheng sighed inwardly. The moment his opponent manifested his Dharma Form, he knew he could no longer preserve