Whether he sped up or slowed down, that shadow remained in the same position, looking utterly at ease.
Western Prince's face grew even paler.
He glanced back to one side and found nothing there, only empty space.
So that person was above him.
Western Prince did not look up.
He abruptly changed direction and flew toward the space beneath the Void Realm, hoping to enter those clouds before his opponent struck.
The shadow remained unchanged, still following him across the white clouds.
As he was about to leave the Void Realm, with the gently shifting clouds right before his eyes, Western Prince seemed to glimpse hope.
He soon discovered that this supposed hope was nothing but an illusion.
The shadow on the white clouds suddenly stretched into a long, slender shape, like a sword.
That sword of shadow left the surface of the clouds and curled toward Western Prince's body, like the flickering flames of the Nether Department's soul fire, or a turtle's tongue.
Western Prince let out a piercing cry. Disregarding his injuries, he forced out every last bit of true essence within him, accelerating in an attempt to escape with his life.
But what in this world could be faster than a shadow?
Give a child an oil lamp, and he could cast the shadow of his finger onto a distant city wall, then make that shadow move faster than True Person Jingyang's sword.
The sword shadow landed on Western Prince, then wrapped around him like an actual rope, suspending him upside down in the sky.
Knowing the gap between their cultivation realms was too great, Western Prince gave up resisting and looked toward the sky.
The sky above the Void Realm was colorless, like transparent glass refracting sunlight, incomparably bright.
A dark silhouette stood in that bright