The Ill-Fated Young Friend
The resources required to cultivate a Martial Venerable could support countless martial artists.
How could an ordinary force possibly have so many Martial Venerables?
Having even one would make them quite a substantial family.
Now, they were all gone.
They had all died protecting him.
"It was I who harmed you. I harmed you all! Ah!!!"
Xiao Yifeng wailed.
He was in unbearable pain.
"It was my arrogance. My arrogance. If I hadn't been so arrogant, this wouldn't have happened."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"
Xiao Yifeng gritted his teeth.
He rolled over, raised a hand to brace himself against the wall, and pushed himself up.
His legs were gone, and he could not adapt to it for the moment.
He trembled as he supported himself against the wall, his whole body pressed against the wall.
Although his body hurt terribly, compared to the pain in his heart, it was all bearable.
"Shen Wuxiao, Shen Wuxiao! If I don't kill you, I swear I'm not human."
"From today onward, I, Xiao Yifeng, will do nothing but fight you to the bitter end."
"I'll make you understand that living is a hundred times more painful than dying! Ah!!!!"
Leaning against the wall, Xiao Yifeng began roaring again.
Roaring could lessen his fear somewhat, so even though he knew he was running away from reality, he still did not stop screaming.
At this moment, he saw a figure.
A crippled man leaning on a cane hurried over before his eyes.
His speed was fairly quick. He was an experienced cripple.
While Xiao Yifeng was still a novice.
The clothes draped over the cripple were filthy, and his face was black with grime.
He was wrapped in an oversized garment, tattered and torn.
A bag utterly mismatched with him also