The immortal spell released by the Woman in the Painting was a fiery phoenix with outspread wings. Seeing its sharp claws about to snatch Qiao Ruohe's life on the spot, the bird's body dissolved into countless grains of flaming sand the moment it touched him, cascading down upon his crimson dragon-embroidered robe.
It was not that her strength was insufficient, but rather that she was now merely a soul shadow devoid of the origin source of a physical body's Spells. The immortal spell she cast possessed only its form without its substance, and striking Qiao Ruohe, it felt entirely painless and ticklish—at best, no more than the heat of a ray of sunlight shining from the edge of the sky.
The Woman in the Painting realized this as well. Judging by the expression on her face, she genuinely wished to put him to death.
Chapter 165