In the blink of an eye, arrows whistled past, and within a hundred meters of Huai Shi, it was as if brambles grew everywhere. Bone arrows, buried in the soil, snapped, releasing a dense, deathly white mist that spread out, corroding the iron stones with a sizzling sound.
But when the hurricane suddenly spread, dispersing the mist filled with countless infectious bacteria, Huai Shi, who should have turned into a skeleton, remained unharmed.
He simply raised his hand, plucked the green buds and vines growing from his hair, casually tossed them into the pits in the soil beside him, stepped on them and covered them with earth.
"Is that all?"
In Huai Shi's hand, the Spear of Compassion fell, causing pure white irises to rapidly grow on the cracked ground, as the aging poison of the Green Crown Dragon spread instantaneously with the Rotting Dream.
"I can do this too," he whispered.
