Facing the endless rolling poisonous fog, Wang Yan showed not a trace of fear. Standing within it, he coldly said: "Such a mere poisonous fog, what's there to fear? If inhaling a bit will kill me, then I'll just hold my breath. Can you forcibly make me breathe?"
Having said that, Wang Yan indeed tightly closed his mouth, and his nose stopped breathing.
As a Demon Cultivator, not breathing for more than ten minutes was not a difficult task.
At present, Wang Yan held his breath, raised his Soul-Breaking Spear, charged through the poison fog, heading straight for Wu Xie.
Wu Xie's face immediately wore a horrified look, shaking his head, he said: "Impossible? How do you know the weakness of my Second Soul Skill? By not breathing, you won't be poisoned, how did you come up with that?"
At this moment, Wang Yan had already passed through the poisonous fog, appearing before Wu Xie. He looked up at Wu Xie hovering in midair, raising his Soul-Breaking Spear, aiming it at Wu Xie.
