"Mmmph! Mmmph!!"
Tang San's eyes were shot through with blood. His entire body trembled for the time it took to drink a cup of tea before finally stopping.
"Haah..."
Oscar let out a long sigh. Only after considerable effort did he manage to pull out the bamboo tube.
Crisscrossing tooth marks of varying depths covered its surface, and several places had already cracked. A few more uses would probably shatter it outright.
Tang San slumped in his wheelchair, gasping for breath. Cold sweat had soaked the bandages wrapped around him, and the bloodshot redness in his eyes lingered.
Oscar frowned and urged him, "Little San, you can't keep going on like this. Find some time to get yourself treated."
Tang San took a long while to steady his breathing. His voice was weak and hoarse:
"It's fine... I can still hold on."
In truth, he wanted treatment more than anyone, but his pockets were painfully empty.
Even a healing-type Soul King could do nothing, so he would need to hire someone who was at least a Soul Sage. But the fee for someone like that was far too high.
It was far beyond what a mere Soul Elder like him could afford.
Tang Hao, who had witnessed everything, knitted his brows tightly.
One enormous question filled his mind.
How had Little San been beaten into this state?
And just what illness had he contracted? His whole body had convulsed during that attack, his teeth clenched tight. Could it be the convulsive disorder mentioned in books? But it looked even worse than that.
These sudden attacks were much like my own tendency to fall unconscious without warning.
He was practically more than half crippled!
He was my hope of taking revenge on Spirit Hall!
Rage surged from the depths of his