A divine thunderbolt crashed down from the highest heavens, its violet-gold light ripping through the firmament and startling two worlds.
No one knew how many days had passed before Ye Honglian finally woke from her long slumber.
Before, the Old Devil had devoured her, leaving her cheeks deathly pale from blood loss. Now, at last, a hint of color was slowly returning to them.
Her long lashes trembled. She shifted slightly and discovered that the wound on her shoulder had healed, covered by a thick scab.
Would it leave an ugly scar?
She instinctively raised a hand to touch it, but her fingertips stopped in midair.
She looked around and froze.
After drinking those three cups of spirit wine, she had drifted between wakefulness and sleep, with the hazy impression that Wang Xian and Ku Chan's battle to the death was still raging.
Or perhaps she simply didn't know who had won.
She had even thought that she and Ji Yaoguang had already fallen into the demon's hands, and that the terrifying old man would devour her little by little, flesh and Divine Soul alike.
Not even a scrap would remain.
The terror had felt so real that even now, awake, her body still trembled faintly.
Only when she opened her eyes and saw the scene before her, only when she heard the wind howling outside the cave, did she let out a soft gasp.
Without realizing it, she had left that dreadful Black Tower and ended up in a mountain cave that was not very spacious.
The cave walls were rough. Water seeped through cracks in the stone, dripping in the silence.
Dry straw had been spread beneath her, and a pile of extinguished ashes lay not far away, still warm.
Thinking of the demon reduced to ashes, Ye