Solam held Death's Thorn Spear, staring at Philip with an expression that said, "Are you kidding me?"
"Don't look at me like that. Look at me right now—do you think I can use this spear?" Philip knew exactly what Solam was thinking when he saw his expression, so he spread his hands helplessly.
Philip truly was not in great condition. His face was still pale, and his aura was extremely weak. Right now, Philip was like some weak level-five rookie—completely incapable of taking a hit.
Not to mention anything else, if he used this cursed spear, he would probably be a corpse before he even killed the enemy.
"You're really giving it to me? This thing is useful against your blood clan too. Would your council of elders be willing to let it go?" Although this spear was a huge trap, its effects were undeniably excellent. If a blood clan member got stabbed by it, they would have to obediently kneel on the ground and surrender. And don't forget—the more blood it drank, the stronger it became. Blood clan members might not have much of anything else, but they certainly had plenty of blood.
Philip said nothing, merely smiling as he pointed at the Blood Clan Covenant ring on Solam's finger.
"Damn! You blood clan bastards are really crafty!" The moment Solam saw the ring on his hand, he understood. With that ring on, he could never attack the blood clan. No wonder those blood clan elders had been so generous as to send over such a powerful cursed weapon. They were certain that Solam could not harm the blood clan at all.
"Sigh, don't blame the council of elders. There's no other way. In my current state, I definitely can't participate in battle, and Digla has made such a