A much larger Magic Beast would be too exhausting.
"No."
Dongfang Minghui had suffered plenty at this little brat's hands. As the saying went, a fall into a pit made you a little wiser. To keep him from going berserk or causing some other uncontrollable incident, it was better to leave him lying there obediently. "His limbs were scratched by the living dead earlier. For fear of any changes in his condition, we need to keep watch over him for now."
Besides, she needed to start studying the connection between the living dead and the black mist. Why could the medicinal juice made by combining Little Lecher and Pig Immortal Grass make those pitch-black wounds on his body disappear?
"Minghui, something seems wrong. Quick, look at his wrist." Mu Sheng, who had been watching him constantly, suddenly cried out.