Chen Shouyi walked on, coughing lightly from time to time, while blood-tinged foam kept oozing from his nose and mouth.
He reached up to wipe it away, and his hand was covered in blood, mixed with bits of lung tissue.
This injury was far more serious than the one from two days ago. Last time, at most, the toxins had prevented the wound from healing and caused excessive bleeding; it had only been a superficial injury. This time, however, his lung had been severely damaged, with a gaping hole torn through it.
He glanced at the wound. The surrounding muscles were desperately trying to contract, yet blood still gurgled out of it like water from a tiny mouth. He reached over and clamped a hand down hard.
A supersonic sword was no easy thing to withstand. It was like a bullet piercing a steel plate: the hole left in the plate was often several times larger than the bullet's cross-sectional area. Before the wound had contracted, the opening in his body had been large enough for a little girl's fist to fit inside. And that was not even the greatest damage. The worst was the air-cavity effect formed inside the body at supersonic speed.
Although he could not see his back, he did not need to think hard to know that the wound there was definitely much larger than the one on his chest.
If not for the fact that practicing the Thirty-Six Forms of Hardening had made him strong enough to withstand it, greatly reducing the damage, he probably would have been unable to stand by now.
His legs felt as if they had been filled with lead. He staggered forward, and when he was careless for just a moment, his foot caught on something and he fell heavily