The once green leaves withered and fell, disintegrating into dust mid-air. The tree trunk lost its vitality and gradually faded away.
"Grow," Qin Huai murmured.
Without making a move, the withered trees before him once again shone with life, restoring themselves even stronger than before.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. The trees stood tall and vibrant, neither withered nor robust. It was as if nothing had transpired.
"My punch can directly imbue the target with the environment I create," Qin Huai mused to himself.
Within the illusion realm, he held sway over life and death. However, the adversary wouldn't truly perish. His move was a spiritual assault, targeting the opponent's soul directly.
If the adversary failed to break free, they would succumb to old age within the illusion realm Qin Huai created, or they would fall to his next strike.