Chapter 371

In the mental image.

Roaring, sonic booms, and sand and seawater flying everywhere constantly sprayed out from the battle circle.

Li Miao turned and smashed his elbow, but was blocked before reaching halfway, his body's rotation forcibly stopped. At the same time, An Qisheng's fingers and claws instantly climbed onto his shoulder, his fingertips digging into the flesh.

If it were an ordinary Celestial, they would likely look for an opportunity to break the move. But Li Miao clearly wouldn't—he directly took advantage of his body being forcibly stopped to backhand another punch into An Qisheng's chest!

Bang!

Chirp—

An Qisheng retreated several steps.

A large piece of flesh was torn from Li Miao's shoulder, and pitch-black seawater flowed from the wound, falling to the ground and seeping into the sand.

The two looked at each other from a distance.

An Qisheng raised his hand; the flesh in his hand gradually melted and collapsed like snowflakes after leaving Li Miao's body, finally becoming a pool of black water in his palm.

"So that's how it is."

An Qisheng shook his palm, looking at the black water in his hand and said.

"Your Xuanlan is of this nature."

"Fierce and cruel, stronger the more injured. Absolute control over your own body, no matter what kind of injury you suffer, power that will not fade until the moment of death."

"No wonder you used the mutually destructive strategy of Wang Gongchang to deal with me; clearly you had no protective True Qi and were injured far more heavily than I was, yet you were able to force me to retreat."

"Unfortunately—"

Li Miao raised an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately what?"

"Unfortunately, this is in the mental image."

An Qisheng said expressionlessly.

"In the thousand years of Yingzhou's inheritance, do you know how many people I have fought in the mental image?"

He raised a palm and shook his open fingers.

"No less than five."

"There have been three who defeated me in reality and forced me to drag them into the mental image to fight, one of whom cultivated Xuanlan, which was far more difficult to deal with than you."

"But in the end, I still won."

"Why not put it this way—"

An Qisheng raised his hand violently.

He actually sent the black water transformed from Li Miao's flesh into his mouth and swallowed it.

"This fighting style of yours, this Xuanlan, is the weakest and most crippled in the mental image battle... your defeat is certain."

As his throat swallowed.

The protective True Qi surrounding him, which had pressed marks into the sand, suddenly expanded outward by an inch.

Li Miao raised his head and sneered.

"So that's how it is."

"The essence of the mental image battle is mutual devouring."

An Qisheng had already unreservedly displayed the essence of the mental image battle in front of Li Miao; although he hadn't stated it clearly, Li Miao naturally understood.

Whether it was Li Miao or An Qisheng, they were both manifestations of the mental image, without the limitations of a flesh-and-blood body. No matter how they fought, even if they smashed their skulls, they would immediately recover the next moment.

Li Miao's Xuanlan was useless here.

As for how to determine the winner of the mental image battle... just like An Qisheng devouring Li Miao's flesh, only by devouring and assimilating the other party completely could this battle finally be decided.

Li Miao's violent fighting style of trading injury for injury, the foundation of his repeated victories over strong enemies, had now become a burden.

No wonder An Qisheng was so certain that Li Miao would lose.

And An Qisheng, after swallowing that handful of black water, suddenly opened his eyes, stared fixedly at Li Miao, and said in a deep voice.

"Zhu Zai."

"Li Xiaosi."

"This is the name you care about most."

"I can feel your memories, I can feel the mood you had when facing Zhu Zai—wanting to be close, yet instinctively resisting closeness in a playful way."

"However, it's a bit strange." An Qisheng frowned in confusion.

"Why didn't I feel your emotions from before you were eight years old?"

"It's as if you before a certain node in time completely disappeared. And then a new you suddenly replaced him."

As he spoke, a look of joy suddenly appeared on his face.

An Qisheng looked at Li Miao with ecstasy.

"Do you remember what happened before you were eight?"

"No, no, you won't answer me... never mind, as long as I devour more of you, I will naturally know the answer."

Before the words fell, he flicked his hand.

Woo—

Without any process, a long flute appeared in his hand, about one foot and three inches long, made of jade, with a sharp broken end at the front, emitting cold light. The tail end, however, extended from his palm, with the bottom embedded in his flesh.

Like a mosquito's mouthpart.

Presumably, after piercing this thing into the body, there would be no need to use the mouth to devour flesh, but it would flow directly into An Qisheng's body.

This was a method he had thought of when fighting mental image battles with others.

Li Miao raised an eyebrow and said with interest.

"Oh?"

"In this mental image, it turns out one can create things at will?"

"That's interesting."

He raised both hands and closed his eyes slightly.

The skin on his fists squirmed like a living thing. The skin from his knuckles to his fists slowly cracked, revealing four ferocious cracks, but no black water flowed out.

The next moment, An Qisheng's pupils shrank.

From the cracks on Li Miao's fists, hundreds of tiny, ferocious, cold-glinting teeth slowly emerged, opening and closing, spitting out a fishy smell.

At the same time, countless mouths flashing with cold light slowly cracked open on his elbows, knees, shoulders, legs, and every other part that could be used for attack.

"What is this?"

An Qisheng hesitated.

"Oh, this?"

Li Miao smiled and shook his hands at him.

"Cthulhu, you wouldn't have heard of it even if I told you. But since you can grow a long flute, I can naturally grow fists that can chew off your flesh."

He smiled and tapped his temple.

"Just a little, insignificant imagination."

Although he said it like that, the performance that could shock An Qisheng was clearly not as simple as the "imagination" Li Miao described.

Creating things in the mental image was not just about creating whatever one wanted; it required both clear concepts and deep-rooted cognition. An operation like Li Miao's "full body of mouths" was something no one else in the Great Ming could likely think of.

The next instant, Li Miao appeared in front of An Qisheng.

Sound waves exploded!

In just an instant, the two exchanged dozens of moves.

Sparks flew, Li Miao raised his hand to slap away the long flute stabbing at his face, drilled into An Qisheng's side with one arm, and lifted him into mid-air like a great spear.

Then he turned and swept a leg at his side ribs!

Chirp—

What should have been a dull thud hitting protective True Qi was now a harsh, metallic screeching sound. An Qisheng's expression changed, his protective True Qi deformed and stabbed into the ground, borrowing force to fly backward.

His protective True Qi had shrunk by an inch.

The next instant, Li Miao's ferocious smile appeared in front of him.

"The old immortal wants to bluff me, saying my Xuanlan is useless here; yours is the same!"

The leg he had just swept at An Qisheng had mouths constantly opening and closing, as if chewing something.

"There is nothing outside the heart; everything in the mental image is composed of 'nature,' and your protective True Qi is the same! The turtle shell I couldn't break outside is now your burden instead!"