A Yuan's agonized scream and Ye Zhen's muffled groan of pain rang out almost simultaneously.
At the instant the artifact spirit A Yuan of the Xiantian Spiritual Treasure, the Twelve Yuan Chen Celestial Treasure Beads, screamed miserably, a long-absent pain that pierced deep into his marrow suddenly flooded Ye Zhen's entire body.
Ye Zhen only felt as though the Yuan Spirit within his Dao Palace had been hammered three thousand times with an iron mallet. His vision went black, and countless cracks began to burst forth across the surface of his Yuan Spirit.
It was pain that bored into his bones, so agonizing that Ye Zhen felt as though his physical body no longer belonged to him.
Even as blood spurted from his seven orifices, Ye Zhen barely felt a thing.
In that instant, his entire body seemed to have entered a dying state. Even bending a finger was extraordinarily difficult; even the turning of his consciousness had become arduous.
Yet Ye Zhen's mind was perfectly clear.
The reason for this state was that A Yuan, the artifact spirit of the Xiantian Spiritual Treasure Twelve Yuan Chen Celestial Treasure Beads, had suffered a severe blow and was rebounding the damage onto him, her master.
But what horrified Ye Zhen was that merely part of the backlash had already left him wishing he were dead from the pain.
Then just how much damage had A Yuan suffered?
Thus, when his consciousness recovered somewhat and his Yuan Spirit gradually steadied from its violent tremors, Ye Zhen ignored the cracks still bursting and spreading across it and sent his divine sense into his Dao Palace to inspect A Yuan's condition.
Within Ye Zhen's Dao Palace, A Yuan was not bleeding from her seven orifices with a ghostly, shrill wail.
But her actual condition