The golden light withdrew as swiftly as the tide. Lin Ming's towering golden giant body, nearly ninety-nine feet tall, rapidly shrank beneath the awed gazes of everyone present. His bones gave off crisp cracking sounds, and his flesh and blood rearranged and refined themselves anew.
In the blink of an eye, he had returned to his original tall, slender form. Only a faint layer of dark-purple flame still lingered around him, like embers that had yet to fully die out.
The moment he recovered, an intense weakness and pain spread through his limbs and bones like a flood.
The Vajra Glass Body was indeed powerful in defense, but taking the attacks of a half-saint puppet head-on had placed an enormous burden on his body as well.
A moment later, he drew in a deep breath and forced down the discomfort. Raising a hand, he wiped away the cold sweat that had appeared on his forehead at some point, then quickly swept his gaze over the battlefield where he stood.
The sight before him made his heart sink slightly.
The elders and elite disciples of Flower Sect and Starfall Pavilion who had come with them were now scattered everywhere, everyone injured.
Their clothes were torn and stained with blood, their auras weak. More than half were badly wounded. Some had twisted, deformed arms; some had blackened chests; others had purple faces, clearly affected by the sinister cold poison qi contained in the puppet's fierce wind, and were now using battle qi to force it down.
Muffled groans, rough panting, and suppressed coughs tangled together. The air was filled with the thick, fierce reek of blood and the bitter scent of medicinal pills.
In this battle, the losses suffered by these mid-level forces under him were enormous.
Xiao Chan, Yi, and Yun