I was walking toward Master when I saw him dispel the yin. He spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed unconscious.
My face drained of color, and I rushed over.
"Master!"
Seeing Master like this, the others hurried forward as well.
"What happened to Senior Song...?"
"Fellow Daoist Song!"
"..."
As they spoke, I was the first to reach Master.
His breathing was weak, his face was pale, and even his lips had lost their color.
Though the three flames atop his head still flickered, they were visibly weakening.
"Master!"
I called out to him, immediately reaching for his neck to check his pulse.
The moment I touched him, I sucked in a sharp breath.
Master's heartbeat was extremely weak, yet incredibly fast—around one hundred and forty beats per minute.
Combined with his pale complexion and the wounds on his body, it was clearly hemorrhagic shock.
Clinically, this was already an extremely dangerous condition. He could die at any moment. He had to receive a blood transfusion.
"Brother Jiang, how is Senior Song?"
Pan Ling asked.
I tore open Master's shirt and saw the wound on his chest.
At the sight of it, everyone present stared wide-eyed.
Some were even dumbstruck. Three bloody gashes ran across Master's chest, from his neck all the way down to his abdomen.
The wounds were huge and still bleeding.
But Master had performed some simple treatment himself, stitching the wounds together with thin red thread.
They looked irregular and terrifying. Each bloody gash was over twenty-five meters long.
He had clearly been clawed by some creature...
Despite being seriously wounded and having lost too much blood, Master must have used a spell to forcibly boost his blood and vitality so he could make it here.
Now that the spell had been lifted, his