“Oh, it’s a hexing spell I learned a few days ago,” Meng Hao replied, glancing at Fang Daohong. “I’m still getting used to it, but don’t worry. This is the first time I’m really confident that I can succeed. In fact, if you lower your cultivation base a bit more, there’s a much higher chance of success.”
Fang Daohong’s face fell.
“You learned it a few days ago? Still not used to it? This is the first time you’ve felt confident in using it?” More beads of sweat popped out on the old man’s face. He was getting the increasing feeling that these two streams of black and white qi could suck his soul away. He even had the premonition that if the hexing failed, he would most likely die an agonizing death.
He watched as Meng Hao pointed at him, whereupon Fang Daohong threw his hands up in front of him and cried out.
“Wait, hold on….” He began to step backward, but then, the terracotta soldier raised its greatsword, which radiated killing intent. Fang Daohong immediately stopped in place.
His face was pale white as he clenched his jaw and then slapped his chest several times in quick succession. He coughed up several mouthfuls of blood. The severe self-inflicted injury caused his cultivation base to drop from the Immortal Realm down to something equivalent to the Dao Seeking stage. At that point, he stopped, looking up at Meng Hao with an ashen face and a bitter smile.
His sudden action caused Meng Hao to look at him closely for a moment, then point out with his right finger again. Immediately, the black and white streams of qi shot through the air and burrowed into Fang Daohong’s body. He trembled, fell to the ground, and began to shriek miserably. At the same time, gray magical symbols began to appear on his skin, where they circulated back and forth. Apparently, these magical symbols grew up from inside his body and manifested on his skin.
Meng Hao stared closely at Fang Daohong. This time, he had used a slightly different method to utilize the Sixth Hex. If this method didn’t work, then he would have to attempt some other way.
Time passed. Fang Daohong’s shrieks eventually grew weaker. After enough time passed for an incense stick to burn, he suddenly went very stiff, and all of the magical symbols faded away. The only thing left behind was a new magical symbol, on his forehead. That magical symbol then made a popping sound as it flew out from his forehead and merged into Meng Hao.
When that happened, Meng Hao could sense a warm current flowing within him. At the same time, the image of a tiny person appeared in his mind, a tiny person whose physical appearance was exactly the same as Fang Daohong.
“Did it work?” thought Meng Hao, looking a bit shocked. After so many times trying out the technique, this seemed like his first success.
Fang Daohong stared in shock for a moment, then crawled to his feet. The overwhelming pain he had experienced moments ago was now gone. He blinked a few times, then moved his arms and legs a bit. He didn’t feel the least bit different than before.
“Prince, you… you succeeded?” he asked tentatively.
Meng Hao frowned as he studied the tiny figure within his mind. Heart thumping, he imagined smacking the tiny figure with his palm. As soon as he did, Fang Daohong let out a shriek. It was as if some enormous, invisible hand had just smacked him; blood sprayed from his mouth, and he was knocked to the ground. After struggling back to his feet, he looked around in confusion.
Meng Hao’s eyes began to shine as he imagined the old man being struck by lightning.
Nothing visible happened, and yet, Fang Daohong screamed as if he were being struck by lightning.
Meng Hao’s eyes shone even brighter as he imagined the old man being burned, drowned, trampled, crushed by a mountain….