Zhong Wuwang sat in a wooden boat, the craft growing faster and faster under Luo Wushang's steering.
His complexion was ashen, as if he were freezing, and he trembled without stopping. He bore over a dozen wounds, and all of them were bleeding.
Enormous fleshy wings sprouted from his back, seeming to possess a will of their own. Flesh and blood slowly squirmed upon them, and suddenly, heads grew out from the wings one by one, opening their mouths to emit silent howls of seemingly excruciating agony.
The heads shrank back into the fleshy wings, and then tentacles of flesh and blood grew out from the wings, their tips bearing eyeballs larger than fists that rolled back and forth, looking around wildly.
Luo Wushang's heart skipped a beat when she saw this sight.
It was the first time the Senior Brother of Despair Slope, who had always been composed and smiling, had ever been in such a disheveled state.
On Despair Slope, Zhong Wuwang had always been lofty and aloof, as pure and noble as a bright moon in the sky. The things Luo Wushang and the others heard most often were how Zhong Wuwang had comprehended some kind of celestial art and imparted it to such-and-such junior uncle, or how Zhong Wuwang had casually given someone a single pointer, causing the other person to actually break through their realm.
Yet now, Zhong Wuwang lacked that poised demeanor.
Zhong Wuwang clenched his teeth tightly, doing everything in his power to suppress the demonic transformation and the influence of the Blood Transformation Divine Blade, and said in a hoarse voice, "Junior Sister, go back! I'm going to go assist Master!"
Luo Wushang smiled and said, "Senior Brother, with injuries as heavy as yours, what can you do even if you go