Outside the world of the Creation God Wheel, Jiang Ping'an's mind stirred slightly, and he released Nine Clouds and the Black Emperor.
The moment Nine Clouds landed, her gaze fell on Jiang Ping'an, and her pupils abruptly shrank.
The Jiang Ping'an before her was completely different from the high-spirited peerless Profound Immortal in her memory, the one who had shaken back a Golden Immortal with a single punch. He was drenched in blood, his clothes in rags, countless wounds crisscrossing his entire body, some still seeping threads of blood. His face was pale as paper, his lips cracked, his eye sockets sunken; his whole body looked as if it had been hollowed out, on the verge of collapse.
He had also been exhausted past the point of weakness.
Thirty-two days of flight at the very limit had squeezed his physical strength and Heart Force to the extreme. The drawn-out war of attrition against the Emperor Blood God Devil's avatar had ended in victory, but it had also made him pay an enormous price. Every inch of his muscles trembled, every one of his meridians had nearly run dry, and even standing had become an extravagant hope.
"Ping'an!" Nine Clouds cried out, rushing forward in a single stride.
She no longer cared about an imperial daughter's bearing or the propriety between men and women. She reached out directly and supported Jiang Ping'an. Jiang Ping'an's heavy body involuntarily tilted toward her, leaning and pressing against her.
Sweat, dirt, and filthy blood stained her snow-white dress until it was a mess, yet she seemed completely unaware. She only held him tightly, as if he would fall the moment she let go.
"I'm fine. I just need to find a safe place and recover for a while," Jiang Ping'an said, his voice hoarse and