Formless Beats Form

Ning Zhuo covered his abdomen with one hand and slowly sat down cross-legged.

The wound on his abdomen was still slowly seeping blood, and waves of pain came from time to time.

Ning Zhuo panted for a moment, his breathing gradually lightening from heavy.

The Bronze Shield lay motionless on the ground. He looked at it, and a trace of regret flashed through his eyes.

He had originally wanted to continue fighting in actual combat. Under the pressure of the Bronze Shield, he could learn something every second and feel his own progress.

Unfortunately, the injury to his abdomen did not allow him to fight for long.

With a movement of his divine sense, Ning Zhuo controlled the Bronze Shield, causing its edges to deform into dense, enormous sawteeth.

Ning Zhuo looked at the cold gleam on the sawteeth and thought, This shield actually has such an attacking form. It truly is rather insidious. I wonder who its original owner was.

Ning Zhuo remained seated cross-legged, his breathing gradually becoming long and steady.

Within the formation, it was difficult for him to use spells to heal himself, nor could he swallow medicinal pills. He could only let his physical body recover on its own.

The wound had stopped seeping blood, and waves of tingling numbness now spread through it.

Ning Zhuo knew that this meant his flesh was regrowing and the wound was rapidly healing.

Yet this time, the wound was clearly healing much more slowly than before.

Ning Zhuo keenly noticed this. A solemn look flickered in his eyes, and he understood inwardly, The physical body has limits. I have been injured repeatedly, and this time I was seriously wounded. My body will need a long period of rest and recuperation before it can return to its peak condition.