The two Demonic Cultivators stood before them, casting two shadows from on high. Both were injured, and seriously so.
The burly demonic cultivator wielding a saber had a large, gruesome patch of corrosion across his chest. Flesh had peeled back, exposing blackened sinew and bone beneath, while his arms and legs were riddled with dense, tiny blood holes;
the other demonic cultivator was in even worse shape. His clothes had been shredded into strips, and a saber wound ran from his left shoulder to his right abdomen, with the outline of his protruding ribs faintly visible beneath it.
Both were gravely wounded, their eyes blazing with fury bordering on hatred.
They had been played—run in circles by two Golden Core cultivators whose cultivation was far beneath their own, using underhanded little tricks. How could they not be enraged? How could they not hate?
Even now, the looks they exchanged were full of resentment, but that did not stop them from deciding to work together first and deal with the true culprits.
"Run." The burly demonic cultivator's lips curled downward, the muscles at the corners of his eyes twitching faintly with extreme rage. "Weren't you good at running just now? Why aren't you running now?"
Like two death-harvesting fiends, they looked down at the two people sprawled helplessly on the ground.
Gu Jingzhao lay on his side, his dark robes long soaked through with blood and clinging tightly to his skin with a clammy chill. Yet he seemed utterly unaware of it, his gaze passing over the burly man's shoulder toward the dark-red canopy shrouding heaven and earth.
The barrier was still there. Like an enormous blood-colored cage, it had sealed the entire Spirit Tempering Peak tightly within.
Perhaps because of his severe injuries, he felt as though everything around him