Forty-Nine Frames

"Hm? Did someone die?" Qiao Ranran shrugged. "Oh, if they're already dead, there's nothing I can do! Or is someone about to die? They look pretty lively to me!" Lively enough to glare at her!

The Flame Moon Sect cultivators had not expected Qiao Ranran to be a Medicine Cultivator. They had taken elixirs and were recovering; their wounds were nearly healed. The real problem was that their Spiritual Power was exhausted. If they wanted to escape, they had only their own two legs—but how could they outrun the Demon Beasts behind them?

Could they ask Wei Huai and the others to take them along? They could. But why would Wei Huai's group waste their Spiritual Power on people who might later become rivals and fight them for resources?

They barely knew each other.

Wen Ziheng offered an earnest smile. "While there's still time, you should make your decision. Leave from the side and find somewhere suitable to hide. Delay any longer, and you may lose your chance altogether."

With that, Wen Ziheng was the first to leave, riding his sword above the wreckage. Not far behind him, clouds of dust seemed to be closing in fast.

The others wasted no more words. Qiao Ranran glanced at the grim-faced Yu Mingxuan and grinned from ear to ear.

Once the others left, the Flame Moon Sect disciples had no choice but to drag their weakened bodies into the nearby woods in utter disarray. If they avoided the oncoming force and found somewhere safe to rest, they might yet have a sliver of hope.

They had not gone far before Yan Qingsui grew impatient. He hated the feeling of having no choice but to run while something chased him.

"Are we supposed to keep running like this?"

If those people insisted on