In the blink of an eye, it reached him. Thunderous roars filled the air as the black threads and the icy hand caused the mist surrounding Meng Hao to slowly contract. Inside, blood sprayed from Meng Hao’s mouth, and his body felt as if it were about to be torn to pieces. His mind was in a jumble, and his face as pale as death. A feeling of life-and-death peril enveloped him; the thread connecting him to the Lightning Flag could be severed at any moment.