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Chen Chuan noticed that while Phantom Form’s breathing was steady, it wasn’t balanced. If a martial artist had uneven breathing, it meant that their wounds were more severe than they looked. It was highly likely that his mutated tissue had been damaged.
Based on Chen Chuan’s experience, Phantom Form had gotten hurt at most half an hour ago, but he couldn’t find any signs of fighting. Unless he had a hobby of self-harming, then his injuries were likely due to the supernatural being.
It seemed like the fact that he had successfully repelled the attack had given Phantom Form his current problem.
Chen Chuan could help him take care of it.
While looking at the staff pointing at him, he plunged the sheath into the floor, grabbed the hilt, and walked forward. As scraping sounds rose, he slowly drew the saber out.
Phantom Form didn’t wait for Chen Chuan to fully draw his saber. With a stomp of his bent leg and a jerk of his body, he pushed the hand holding the end of the staff forward and shoved it ahead.
Chen Chuan brought the saber before him horizontally.
Clang!
He sensed a great power, along with layers of refined force that charged into him from his saber straight to his body. It felt as if he was pinned to the spot and couldn’t move.
If he hadn’t mastered the technique to negate refined force and instinctively used his mutated tissue...
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