The vital forces had just appeared, followed swiftly by the endless intent of destruction. As this intense destructive intent became boundlessly magnificent, Ye Feng's body began to tremble.
With each tremor, Ye Feng felt a crazy impulse surging within, and even his soul began to fracture.
His face turned incredibly mournful.
The extent of his misery was indescribable, reaching an unimaginable state and level.
Every movement that emerged from Ye Feng's body brought him tremendous pain, making him feel as if he walked out of Hell, into the Mortal World, only to fall back into Hell again from the heights of the Mortal World.
That feeling was extremely painful and very difficult to describe.
Yet, it was this feeling and phenomenon that appeared quickly on Ye Feng's body. The black lights surrounding him, along with the scythe's emitted power of destruction and stubborn death intent, dissipated completely within a single breath.
Rather than dissipating, it was more like swirling.
