The wisp of sword qi passed through Xiao Ming's glabella, entering his soul sea with the subtlety of a clay figure sinking into the ocean.
At first, nothing seemed to change.
The berserk howls that had been tearing through Xiao Ming's mind continued unabated, his body trembling under the weight of the violet mist's influence.
Master Huan, his figure growing paler and more translucent, watched with a mixture of worry and exhaustion.
He had expended a great deal of his energy to release that wisp of sword qi, and now he could only hope it would be enough to save Xiao Ming from totally devilizing.
Xiao Ming's heart and mind were in complete chaos.
He was trapped in a nightmarish battle against the collective will of a thousand Nightwalkers, their malevolent auras pressing down on him like a suffocating tide.
