Chapter 1293: The Third Soul Armament (VI)
Within the ranks of Emissaries of Death, individuals who have successfully entered the Earth Soul realm are not nonexistent, but their numbers are exceedingly small. For the vast collective of Emissaries of Death, those who have ascended to the Earth Soul realm are but a drop in the ocean.
An Emissary of Death like the subordinate man, who has even reached the late-stage Earth Soul, is an even rarer sight. This is because a powerhouse at the late-stage Earth Soul realm would be more than capable of serving as a Guardian of a region; to be merely an Emissary of Death is to be grossly overqualified.
Logically, Yang Haoran should have recognized such a formidable expert, or at least heard of him, even if he wasn't a Guardian. Yet, this individual felt utterly unfamiliar to Yang Haoran; he had no recollection of him whatsoever. Even within the extensive intelligence gathered by Shui Ling, there was no prominent mention of this person. This could only indicate one thing: Ulan had concealed him extremely well, and he rarely displayed his true power in front of outsiders, which is precisely why such a potent expert had been overlooked.
Moments ago, Yang Haoran's strength had clearly outstripped that of the subordinate man, but now, he found himself instantly surpassed by the very same individual.
"Heh heh, I never thought you'd actually reached the late-stage Earth Soul realm. That genuinely astonishes me. However, you absolutely mustn't underestimate me."
Yang Haoran smiled faintly as he spoke, and as his words resonated, the power fluctuations he unleashed surged dramatically in response. In but a blink of an eye, his cultivation not only ascended to the late-stage Earth Soul but even reached the pinnacle of the late-stage Earth Soul, once more eclipsing the subordinate man.
The subordinate man, in the midst of forming hand seals and preparing to unleash a Ghost Art, witnessed Yang Haoran's cultivation soar to the peak late-stage Earth Soul and his face instantly drained of color.
It wasn't just the subordinate man; even Ulan, observing from a distance, experienced a considerable shift in her expression.
Nevertheless, despite the subordinate man's inner shock, his hand-seal movements did not falter. His unflappable composure in the face of such a startling development clearly demonstrated his remarkably rich combat experience.
Yang Haoran's actions ignited a certain degree of irritation within the subordinate man, for he felt that Yang Haoran was openly toying with him. Even for someone as composed as himself, being mocked in such a manner before Ulan was deeply unsettling.
"Ghost Art: Wrathful Spirit Binding!"
The subordinate man ceased his hand-seal movements, a low shout escaping his lips. Concurrently, the space around Yang Haoran violently fluctuated, and a multitude of vengeful spirits materialized from thin air. These spirits, male and female, stout and gaunt, cried or laughed, shrieked or clamored, completely encircling Yang Haoran.
As the eerie cackles and bizarre shrieks of these vengeful spirits reverberated all around, wisps of fine white mist condensed beneath them, forming peculiar, slender tentacles. The very tip of each tentacle even sprouted a single eye, appearing simultaneously grotesque and horrifying, yet also conveying an impression of formidable resilience.
Once the tentacles swiftly coalesced into form, they immediately shot towards Yang Haoran at the center from all directions, quick as lightning. In an instant, they coiled around Yang Haoran's body, rapidly constricting.
. . . . Yet, the scene Yang Haoran perceived before his eyes at that moment was entirely different. What he beheld was a vast sea of vibrant flowers, bathed in brilliant sunshine, fragrant and alive with the songs of birds. A kaleidoscope of multicolored butterflies swirled around his body, fluttering and dancing upwards, from ground to sky, creating an extraordinarily beautiful tableau that evoked a sense of comfort and profound tranquility.
However, this purported sense of comfort and serenity referred solely to how it might appear to an external observer. At this very moment, Yang Haoran himself was neither fooled nor captivated by this spectacle, for he was acutely aware that everything he was witnessing was nothing more than an illusion.
The Underworld Office possessed Ghost Arts as numerous as ox hairs, truly beyond counting, much like the countless Danyaos found in this world. Therefore, Yang Haoran had no prior knowledge of the specific Ghost Art the subordinate man was employing, yet this did not hinder him from discerning its type at a single glance.
From the current circumstances, it appeared this Ghost Art was likely an auxiliary type, its primary function being to restrain opponents and limit their movements. Its secondary purpose was to ensnare enemies with illusion techniques; once a target became deeply mired in the illusion, they would be considerably easier to handle.
At this moment, though Yang Haoran's body was ensnared by the one-eyed tentacles unleashed by the vengeful spirits, the illusions they conjured had no impact on him. This was because, while he had been exchanging words with Ulan earlier, he was secretly making preparations. Among these preparations was the consideration of what tactics his opponent might employ if they attacked, and whether illusionary assaults would be among them—a possibility well within his calculations.
Thus, to counter any potential illusionary attacks, even though he hadn't preemptively activated his Ghost Eye, he had steadfastly guarded his mental clarity. This ensured that if the opponent were to employ illusion-based offensives, he wouldn't easily fall prey. Conversely, if no such attacks were launched, it would incur no negative effects upon him whatsoever. In essence, this approach offered only advantages, with no drawbacks.
The remarkable coincidence lay in the fact that after the chains—formed by the subordinate man—failed to inflict any damage on Yang Haoran, the subsequent Ghost Art he unleashed just so happened to possess the ability of illusion. And Yang Haoran, having not only prepared for this very eventuality but also possessing superior strength to the subordinate man, naturally did not fall deeply into the illusion.
As for the one-eyed tentacles that coiled around Yang Haoran's body, it wasn't that Yang Haoran lacked the ability to dodge them; rather, he simply chose not to.
At this moment, were one to observe from outside the illusion, they would discover that Yang Haoran's body had, in a mere short span, been completely encased by the one-eyed tentacles, resembling a white cocoon, with only his head left exposed. Ferocious ghost faces swirled menacingly near his head, either emitting heart-rending roars or chilling, terrifying cackles. As for the vengeful spirits encircling him, while manipulating both the one-eyed tentacles and the illusion, they, too, were cackling eerily.
Meanwhile, the subordinate man continued to rapidly form hand seals, for he clearly understood that with the formidable power fluctuations Yang Haoran was currently unleashing, the Ghost Art he had deployed would not contain Yang Haoran for an extended period. He had to execute more potent techniques before Yang Haoran broke free, as this was the only way to genuinely capture Yang Haoran alive.
If not for Ulan’s insistence on taking Yang Haoran alive, his actions at this moment would undoubtedly be entirely different. He wouldn’t waste any more time forming hand seals to cast Ghost Arts; instead, he would directly control his Soul Armament and launch an assault on Yang Haoran. After all, in his estimation, this presented an excellent opportunity to strike!
. . . . Yet, this scene of Yang Haoran being ensnared lasted for but a fleeting instant. Before the subordinate man could even successfully form hand seals to unleash another Ghost Art, an explosive rumble erupted from Yang Haoran’s position. The one-eyed tentacles wrapped around him were utterly shattered by a torrent of wild power. The floating ghost faces and the vengeful spirits that had surrounded Yang Haoran, after emitting a chorus of heart-rending shrieks, were likewise dispersed by this ferocious energy, proving utterly incapable of resisting it in the slightest.
This sight caused the subordinate man’s expression to subtly shift, for Yang Haoran’s speed in breaking free was far greater than he had predicted. Just as he was still reeling from the shock of Yang Haoran’s swiftness, he saw Yang Haoran, now liberated, direct a faint smile at him.
This smile, seemingly gentle and devoid of any malice, nonetheless sparked an ominous premonition within his heart. Without a second thought, his figure flickered, and he instantly vanished from his original position. And in that very same instant his form disappeared, a ghastly white bone hand suddenly tore through the void, seizing at the spot where he had just been. The very fabric of space was rent with cracks by that claw.
Had he not reacted swiftly enough to dodge in time, he would undoubtedly have been seized firmly in the palm of that bone hand. Judging by the extent of the spatial fissures, if that bone hand had truly latched onto him, he would, at the very least, have suffered no minor injuries, even if he didn't outright lose his life.
As the subordinate man evaded Yang Haoran's strike, his hand-seal movements did not cease. As soon as he regained his balance, the gestures of his hands finally halted.
The Ghost Art he unleashed this time was likewise an auxiliary type, and a high-level one at that. Its objective remained identical to before: simply to trap Yang Haoran!
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