Fang Hao crouched behind that large rock, watching the three remnants on the platform glare at each other, feeling absolutely delighted inside!
Fight! Keep fighting!
Weren't you all so capable just a moment ago?
Why are you all wilting now?
The Senior Brother from the Thunder Sword Sect with the square face leaned on his sword, panting heavily, his chest clothes torn, with bloodstains hanging from the corner of his mouth.
Hei Sha was in an even worse state; he could not even hold his ghost-head blade steady, and one arm hung unnaturally, likely broken.
You Ying was no better off, her face deathly pale, leaning against the wall, her short stabs barely held in her grip.
On the ground lay a half-dead Loose Cultivator using a blade, groaning and moaning.
The three parties had been fighting tooth and nail just a moment ago, but now they stared at each other, none daring to make the first move.
Why?
