His face, always refined and handsome, calm and composed, was now gaunt and haggard, drained of all color and devoid of vitality. His once bright, gentle eyes were tightly shut. His eyelids trembled faintly, but he lacked the strength to open them.
Who could have imagined that Qingtian Douluo, who had dominated the continent for a hundred years, towered over every rival, and was hailed as its greatest, would end up like this—a lamp with its oil exhausted, barely clinging to life?
Ya Li's fingertips trembled constantly as she poured an unending stream of healing power into Yun Ming's body, sparing nothing.
The Prayer Angel's supreme healing radiance enveloped him in layer upon layer, repairing his shattered bones and tendons and damaged organs. Yet the overwhelming force of heaven and earth and the five intertwined supreme powers contained in Situ Xuan's punch had already permeated every limb and bone, reaching the very source of his soul.
An injury of this magnitude had long since exceeded the limits of a Soul Master's healing. Even Ya Li, the continent's greatest healing-type Soul Master, who could bring life to the dead and flesh to bare bones, was helpless now.
The sacred white light falling upon Yun Ming could barely preserve his final spark of life. It could not repair the damage to his source at all.
Ya Li gazed at her lifeless lover in her arms. Tears rolled down silently, splashing onto Yun Ming's cold cheeks.
She could clearly see Yun Ming's fingers trembling faintly, as though he wanted to raise his hand and gently stroke her cheek, offering her comfort and reassurance as he had countless times before.
But every bone in his body was shattered, all his organs were ruptured, and his soul was on the verge of disintegration. Such devastating