Two giant forces, one internal and one external, formed an invisible millstone.
It repeatedly crushed, forged, and purified his unrefined Spiritual Power!
Ten minutes.
As the cool energy of the Potion permeated his entire body, Han Feng took off the helmet.
He opened his eyes.
The entire world was impossibly clear.
His Divine Sense was no longer an ethereal mist, but had transformed into a rushing current.
It was formless, yet it possessed astonishing resilience and weight.
[Spiritual Strength: 535]
Han Feng returned to the Shield and began a new round of hunting.
Time slipped by amid the slaughter.
Outside the great hall, the gray mist grew increasingly viscous, almost congealing into tangible darkness.
Han Feng's figure stood at the center of the storm.
With every flick of his finger, an invisible blade slashed forth.
The movements were so effortless they didn't resemble a life-or-death struggle, but rather someone casually brushing dust from his shoulder.
