Su Ming was forced to retreat step by step through the air. The pressure was suffocating. His meridians burned, and his breath became ragged. Every strike rattled him to his bones.
He was being pushed past his limit.
Su Ming circulated the Primordial Yang Sovereign Body Art to its peak.
His heart pounded like a war drum. Deep inside his flesh, the physique responded to the mortal danger. His skin transformed to dark crimson, and two tiny horns emerged from his temples, piercing through his black hair. A terrifying aura leaked from his body.
Demonic Ancestor Mo froze mid-strike. His blood-red eyes widened in shock.
"This aura... a demonic transformation?"
Demonic Ancestor Mo stared at the horns on Su Ming's brow and the crimson skin, then threw his head back and laughed.
"Hahaha! What righteous peak master? What sword genius? In the end, you are one of us!"
