Ten minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Thirty minutes.
Three hours passed quickly, and Maldron and the others on the battlefield had reached their limits.
After all, they were fighting upper gods. Even though their consciousness had collapsed and only instinctual reactions remained, the Desolate Celestial Race excelled at physical combat. Under the relentless attacks, Maldron and the others were overwhelmed, and several warriors had been severely wounded.
"Captain, I can't hold on much longer." Blood kept pouring from six wounds on Stad's body.
"Hold on. You have to hold on. The master said he wouldn't abandon us. He'll definitely save us." Maldron spoke in a trembling voice. He had begun to doubt Lu Yang.
"Heh, whether the master comes or not, I'm pretty happy this time." Xiao Lang, the severely injured warrior being protected in the middle, suddenly stood up and stepped in front of Stad, shielding him behind his back.
"What are you doing?" Stad asked.
"I've recovered quite a bit. You're more seriously injured than I am now, so it's your turn to go inside." Xiao Lang said smugly.
"I..." Stad still wanted to persist. His honor would not allow him to retreat.
"We're one body. Don't leave me with regrets." Xiao Lang firmly shoved Stad into the center of the circle and protected him.
"Feels great. Even if the master doesn't come, we've learned the meaning of working together. We may not be able to hear the sounds outside, but over these three hours, not one of us brothers abandoned the others and ran away. Not one of us made another brother die in his place just to save himself.
"We supported each other for three hours against six upper gods. We've had enough. Now, brothers, listen to my command. When I tell you to run, run toward