Ninth King

The black-robed man moved, and delivered a palm strike in Ling Han's direction.

Ling Han neither dodged nor ducked, and allowed the other person to land a direct hit. Utterly calm, he said, "You are now in my grasp. If I want you to live, you will. If I want you to die, the only path that lies ahead of you is death."

Peng, this palm strike landed solidly, but Ling Han did not take even half a step back, as if the man had just given him a light pat.

"How could this be!?" The black-robed man was so shocked he felt his hair stand on ends. This had surpassed his imagination, and he felt a fear of the unknown rise up in him.

Ling Han smiled, and said, "Welcome to my world."

"Illusion, this all must be an illusion!" The black-robed man took a few consecutive steps back. He'd experienced a momentary loss of consciousness just now; it had to be in that instant that he had fallen into this trick. Everything he saw and felt now had to be false.