“One, two, three…” said Meng Hao, his voice light. When he said the word “three,” three breaths had passed. Chen Jiaxi’s face suddenly changed. His body began to tremble, and his face distorted. He let out a blood-curdling scream, and then blood began to ooze out of his eyes, mouth and nose.
Immediately, all of the Cultivators present on the fifty-seventh mountain of the Black Sieve Sect burst into a commotion. Many of them shot to their feet, their eyes filled with astonishment.
Li Yiming’s vision began to grow dark, and his mind filled with a spinning roar that caused him to nearly lose consciousness.
Zhou Dekun gasped, his face filled with disbelief as he looked at Chen Jiaxi standing there, screaming miserably, blood dripping down his face.
Patriarch Violet Sieve’s pupils constricted, and then began to fill with fury. Next to him, the ruddy-faced old man frowned, and his eyes began to fill with displeasure.
Meng Hao stood there on the stage, continuing to count softly.
“Four, five, six….”
As Meng Hao counted, Chen Jiaxi fell to the ground, screaming shrilly. His body thrashed, and blood flew everywhere. His Qi passageways had reversed, and popping sounds could be heard ringing out from within his body. A mist of blood sprayed from his mouth, turning his red robe into a true garment of gore.