Li Su's eyes widened in disbelief, as though he had seen a ghost—and then seen another ghost after that.
At this moment, he was covered in wounds. Quite a few were deep enough to expose bone, and even his internal organs had been laid bare.
But strangely enough, his organs were now astonishingly brilliant, gleaming with Three-Colored Divine Light. Special patterns coiled around them; they looked less like the organs of a living creature and more like rare treasures.
If he took them out and refined them with fierce fire, perhaps he could... Li Su paused, then vigorously shook his head, banishing the thought of forging his own organs into magical treasures.
His expression turned grave as he looked at his wounds.
There were more than ten holes in his chest, as though swords had pierced straight through him. Faint sword radiance still flickered around the wounds, not yet dispersed.
There were also fist prints. Even his skin had been shaken apart, leaving marks that were difficult to erase.
Other places had been charred black by fire. That blaze was exceptionally tyrannical, carrying scorching radiative heat.
Without a doubt, these were all his own techniques—the arts he had mastered.
Inside the Great Sacrificial Martial Arena, he had counterattacked the blood shadow's assaults with his spells. Yet after coming out, they had all struck himself instead?
Li Su was horrified. The situation gave him a tremendous fright, and he found it difficult to believe.
He had known that the Great Sacrificial Martial Arena was extremely strange and vaguely affected the mind, but he had never imagined that he himself would truly have his psyche influenced.
His soul was special, carrying the flavor of supremacy. Even immortals would find it difficult to affect it directly.
After forcefully drawing in several breaths of