"Don't waste any more energy. Without any emotion or undulating voice, it came through the thick fog, with a wet coldness, like a snake gliding on the moss, "Do you have anything to explain, before I clean you up?" ”

"That's what it is...... What is the strength of the Second Degree Lord...... although it may be because he had already consumed most of his soul power when he had just rescued the boy from the Abyss Corridor, so he was now in a disparity situation where he was completely unable to use any soul power, which was enough to be killed instantly...... However, the soul sewing knows in his heart that even if he is in a state of full soul power, he has no chance of winning in the face of the Netherworld...... Standing in front of him at this moment is an unfathomable monster. The rumors that I had been hearing in the rumors were finally really oppressed in front of my eyes.

The sewing soul senses the soul power in his body that is forcibly suppressed by the other party, and cannot flow at all, and then looks at the ghost opposite, from his quiet and quiet posture, he can't feel any soul power flow in his body, his soul movement method is weird and evil, and at the same time, there is almost no trace, it cannot be captured and sensed, maybe there is only one person in the Yaslan realm who can capture his soul power flow when he is fighting against him......

There was overwhelming despair in the pupils of the sewing soul. He turned his head stiffly and looked at the frail young man staring at him with wide-open pure pupils in the distance, tears of pain welling up in his eyes.

"Nether...... Listen to me...... You can kill me, but you can't kill him, he's ...... He is ......" The words of the sewing soul suddenly broke in the air, like a dead branch that had been trampled on.

A delicate, small black ice cube pierced out of the throat of the Soul Slit.

Immediately, shoulders, chest, and lower abdomen, one after another, sharp ice blades covered with barbs exploded from his body one after another. The plasma was gurgling all over the ground, steaming out a fishy hot steam.

"Impossible...... You can control the water inside my body...... Your soul power is so strong that it ...... Can break through the barrier of my body...... It can't be ......"

Netherworld stretched out his pale and slender fingers from the black robe, and with a gentle wave, the body of the stitched soul suddenly flew up in the air and crashed towards the cliff behind him, with a bang, the mountain stone shattered, and his whole body fell heavily to the ground.

Nether's body seemed to float in the air all the time, without any weight, not even any thickness, like a thin shadow. His black ghostly figure suddenly appeared in front of the pale young man in a flash.

Nether bent down and reached out from his wide cloak. It was a pair of slender hands with almost no blemish in them, which looked lifeless in the moonlight. He gently lifted the young man's chin with his slender and cold fingers, his fingers pinched the young man's chin, the young man's delicate face, full of fear at the moment, his pupils trembled violently, and his breathing became more and more rapid.

Nether gently removed the hood from his head, and the milky white light in the canyon wrapped in the mist into a soft hue shrouded his face, and he suddenly smiled lightly, and the corners of his mouth were fleeting with evil energy, like a fleeting scale light in the deep sea. The pale boy was only inches away from the tip of his nose, and could even smell the strong, pungent smell of his breath. The Netherworld's eyes were deep, like a narrow valley that could not be illuminated by the moonlight, and the high eyebrow bones bulged out on his forehead, echoing the bridge of his nose, making his eye sockets deeper, completely sinking into the dark shadows. His turquoise pupils were like gems with a ghostly glow, and there were indescribable shimmers swimming in them. The black robes around him were stirred by soul power, and black smoke floated in the air like black smoke, enveloping his slender and powerful body. He wore very little clothing, and his arms, groin, and shoulders were all exposed in several places - unlike many defensive psychos, he didn't have hard armor all over his body, all of them were defenseless-looking fabrics and soft leather, and because of this, his strength was even more prominent, and he didn't need to think about the level of defense at all, because no one could inflict substantial damage on him.

"You'd better tell me...... Who are you......" Nether asked in a low, magnetic voice as he approached the frail young man sitting on the ground, looking at his pale face. His powerful fingers rubbed gently over the young man's fair face, as if caressing a delicate flower that had just opened. The corners of his mouth still lingered on that evil smile.

The boy kept backing in fear, but the rocks behind him made him have no way out. The strength in Nether's hand gradually increased, and a pained expression appeared on the pale boy's face. Slowly and timidly, he raised his hand, and his thin, pale fingers rested lightly on Nether's wrist, trembling as if he did not dare to touch him, full of fear. He tried to push the Nether's hand away, but in vain.

"Tut-tut......" The Nether's mouth made a sound like teasing a small animal, and the cold male breath in his mouth was like an aphrodisiac smell, if it was a girl facing the Nether, it should have been confused at the moment.

"I'm ......" the young man's weak voice, indistinguishable in the mist, as if he had lost his strength, opened and closed his mouth hollowly.

Suddenly, the pale boy smiled innocently.

Before the Netherworld could react, the young man's cold five fingers instantly changed into a staggered sharp ice blade, and at an irresistible lightning speed, it climbed up along one of Netherworld's arms, like a crazy steel vine. The cold pain was like a dozen thin snakes burrowing into the muscles, biting frantically, and chewing along with the arm bones.

In the blink of an eye, Nether's right hand, along with the right half of his shoulder, turned into shards of powder flying in the air.

The blood foam splashed everywhere, and a fishy sweet smell rose in the thick fog.

The intense pain made Netherworld's vision shake and tremble as if it had been blown by a strong wind.

Everything around was distorted, and only the fair and delicate face of the pale young man in front of him remained.

He looked at the Netherworld quietly, the expression on his face innocent and serene, and his pale lips seemed to ooze crimson blood faintly, like a fragrant rose that had just been chewed.

He looked like a weak demon.