He was immobilized on the spot, as Mo Wudao gradually breached his defenses, moving his palm slowly towards his forehead.
"Ten Directions Strangle," Yang Ji bellowed in a low growl, his eyelids flickered, revealing a sharp light in his eyes, a cold smile hanging on the corner of his mouth, as endless Sword Qi surged out from within his body, forming an endless killing field.
"What?" Mo Wudao exclaimed in shock, only to feel boundless killing intent enveloping him, as if he was trapped in a vortex, unable to extricate himself.
Mo Wudao cried out in frenzied fury, "Impossible, how could you have recovered? Could your divine soul actually be stronger than mine?"
"You've guessed correctly, I should be stronger than you." Stronger in strength of Primordial Spirit? Yang Ji sneered, activating the "Ten Directions Strangle," and Mo Wudao was sent flying, caught in the midst of the boundless Sword Qi, like a cocoon.
