Nezha's face was dark and heavy as well. He was the incarnation of the Twelve-Grade Karma Fire Red Lotus; karma fire subdued all evil and pestilence, so naturally he suffered no harm from it.
Yang Jian had received the personal teachings of Saint King Pan since childhood, bore pure human-divine blood in his body, and had also cultivated the Eight-Nine Arcane Art. His flesh was tyrannical and powerful, making it difficult for plague poison to invade him.
Only Tianhua had a mortal body. During the fierce battle just now, he had carelessly been tainted by the plague poison Lu Yue had hidden away, and before he could guard against it, he had fallen victim to the deadly strike.
For a time, the vast commander's tent instantly sank into Deathly Stillness.
The atmosphere was gloomy as ink that could not be dissolved. Candle flames flickered, casting grave expressions over everyone's faces. Their hearts were filled with helplessness and oppression; the faint hope of breaking the situation that had just been kindled was completely extinguished by this sudden turn of events.
In the Great Shang military camp, the lamplight was dim yellow, and the tent was filled with a faint medicinal scent and a lingering air of pestilence and ferocity.
Lu Yue fled back wounded. The wounds on his shoulder and arm were still seeping blood, his face was deathly pale, and his steps were unsteady, yet none of it could conceal the towering fury in his eyes.
No sooner had he entered the tent and sat down than Shen Gongbao stepped forward and asked with concern, "Brother Lu Yue, how are your injuries? Are you all right?"
Lu Yue slowly shook his head, raised a hand to take the holy healing pill brought from Golden Ao Island that a disciple beside