Nikita chose not to clash with Wusa City and the Wusa Temple, leaving everyone present greatly relieved.
Neither the three Zoog elders nor the aged cat.
The Three-headed Black Flood Dragon had reverted to a black bracelet and returned to Nikita's wrist. Compared with before, however, its clasp was slightly damaged, and the bracelet itself had lost much of its luster.
Even though it was a black flood dragon whose rank came infinitely close to that of an Archwizard, and Nikita had weakened the talisman bomb's power somewhat, taking that Blood Talisman Bomb head-on had still inflicted tremendous damage on it.
Zhuzhu followed behind the banshee toward the tavern exit, stealing glances at the black bracelet on her wrist and secretly feeling regretful. If that bracelet had been hers, it would never have faced such danger—if she had been in charge, she definitely would not have entered this little magical city alone while leaving her "army" outside the city.
But she would never say that in front of Nikita.
"We shouldn't have wasted so much breath on them," the Little Banshee muttered, half complaining and half relieved. "...If we'd let Little Black out to bite them to death the moment we met, they definitely wouldn't have escaped."
Walking ahead of Zhuzhu, Nikita lowered her head and glanced at her translucent palm, then sighed softly.
The excessive drain on her magic had even weakened her sense of presence in the Illusory Dream Realm. She did not dare imagine what would have happened if that Blood Talisman Bomb had struck her head-on.
Yet the frustration of the standoff only made her even more interested in capturing Zheng Qing.
"When fruit ripens, picking and eating it immediately is certainly the best way to ensure the ingredients stay fresh." The banshee pushed open the