While Zhang Yu fought the Daoist, Silan had carefully hidden herself at a distance. Though she could not observe the changes in the battle herself, Pure White could infer the rough course of their fight from shifts in air currents, light, and shadows.
Pure White suddenly said, "The battle is over."
Silan suppressed the urge to run over at once and asked nervously, "Wh-who won?"
Pure White said, "There is more than an eighty percent chance it was the one from before."
Silan was startled. "A win is a win, and a loss is a loss. How can there still be twenty percent uncertainty?"
Pure White said, "Because I can only make judgments based on what I am temporarily able to observe. Cultivators possess many divine abilities and spells. I cannot determine whether the final victor was possessed by something, nor can I confirm whether the fallen cultivator is capable of coming back from the dead."
Silan felt a tightness in her chest. "It seems I need to go back and upgrade you."
Pure White said, "That cultivator is coming over."
After thinking for a moment, Silan stepped out from her hiding place. She then saw Zhang Yu walking toward her. After another brief thought, the metal outer armor on her body seemed to melt away, gathering into the space between her brows. She went forward and gave him a deep curtsy. "Mystic cultivator, thank you so much. I have no idea where that cultivator came from. He attacked us the moment he appeared. If not for you just now, I might already be dead."
Zhang Yu raised his sleeve and returned the greeting. "That man was likely an evil cultivator. He attacked you because he had set his sights on your vital blood, intending to use it to cultivate