Su Qingmo stared at the sword tip before her brow, a dazed disbelief rising in her heart as though lifetimes had passed. Was she about to die just like this?
Both were at the Early Twelfth Order, yet she could not even withstand two swords from Chen Fei. Zhu Daiyun and Zai Quyue were clearly not far away; they could have surrounded and killed Chen Fei soon. So why was she going to die here now?
Su Qingmo's gaze left the sword tip and turned into the distance. She stretched out her right hand, her lips trembling faintly as she tried to call for help from Zhu Daiyun and the others.
They were just this little short of reaching her. Zhu Daiyun and the others were almost here!
More than two hundred thousand miles away, Zhu Daiyun saw what was happening and involuntarily narrowed his eyes. He was stronger than Su Qingmo, but not to the point of absolute suppression.
If the two truly fought to the death, even if Zhu Daiyun won, it would take at least a hundred exchanges. If he wanted a flawless victory without a scratch, that would only come after three hundred exchanges.
Zhu Daiyun needed that much to defeat Su Qingmo. Zai Quyue, whose strength was nearly identical to Su Qingmo's, would need at least a thousand exchanges to determine victory or defeat.
If either side wished to leave, the other could not stop them at all. When their strength was evenly matched, it was basically impossible to truly determine life and death unless they were trapped somewhere with no road left to take.
Yet now, Su Qingmo had been beaten to the brink of death.
From the moment they sensed the battle fluctuations here to the time they rushed over, Su Qingmo had