"You should count yourself lucky you're my friend. Otherwise, the price of resurrection would make you hesitate."
Bai Moulong swayed her dragon tail as if she had done something utterly insignificant.
Many stared dumbfounded at the snowy-white, wondrous dragon tail. There had never been any record of such a thing in this world, where spiritual energy was thin. She also possessed a clear, ethereal beauty, far beyond mortal dust and commonplace flesh. Especially the faint, invisible majesty she radiated—it filled everyone with dread, and they unconsciously lowered their heads.
Zhen Bei looked at his good brother on the ground.
The horrific fatal wounds had already healed. The bloodstains and tears in his clothing and armor remained, but his complexion was gradually regaining color.
It still felt somewhat unbelievable. His silent plea for Bai Moulong's help had merely been an instinctive act.
He had never expected his dead brother to truly be brought back to life.
Yet Bai Moulong had actually descended in person and readily saved him. It even dispelled some of the resentment from when she had flung him away. No matter what, the white dragon had helped him several times. Even planting the Ancient Desolate Battlefield in his head had been meant to make him stronger.
Suddenly, he felt that this dragon did not seem quite so mischievous after all.
"Can he... really live?"
Hearing this, Bai Moulong shot Zhen Bei a sidelong glance.
"Are you questioning my professional skill and my credibility? That is extremely rude."
"Uh, sorry. It's just too unbelievable. I believe you."
Zhen Bei had no doubt that if Bai Moulong got angry, she might simply wash her hands of it. She might even make his revived brother die again. One had to remember one thing: never judge a dragon with a human brain.