Despite what he said, Zhao Han was still shocked inwardly. The finger he had just struck out with should have left Zu An in a terrible state, and yet this kid hadn’t broken down on the spot, only spitting out a bit of blood?

Inwardly, Zu An was once again glad that his body, which had been tempered countless times by the Primordial Origin Sutra, had become incomparably tough. Together with Jing Teng’s help, which reduced the power of the finger a bit, he had still been able to successfully block it in the end.

Frustratingly, though, the finger contained some form of spatial destructive power. It continued to corrode his blood vessels, stopping his inner ki from repairing his body. It was to the extent that it seemed as if it would just keep spreading further into his body.

If any other cultivator had been struck by Zhao Han’s finger, even a master rank cultivator’s body would already have turned into a clump of blood. A grandmaster would also be gradually broken down by the power of spatial collapse, ultimately becoming a cripple. No wonder Zhao Han hadn’t continued attacking; he already viewed...