At the foot of the inner city wall, a man struggled to sit up from the ground, leaning against a mostly collapsed wall and panting heavily.
He looked at his hands. His longsword was still in his grasp, but his shield was nowhere to be found. He looked back up at the city wall, watching Fixed Soul Cannon Shells explode above, and could only hope everyone was all right.
Then he felt wetness on his back and instinctively looked behind him. The wall behind him was blood-red, the blood already congealed upon it. Severed limbs lay scattered around him, and half a Demon Race corpse lay beneath him.
He had been lucky. His cultivation, his protective gear, and this already mangled Demon Race corpse had spared him much of the damage from the fall, so he had survived and soon regained consciousness.
Listening to the explosions around him, he did not know what he should do now. Blocking the explosion of a Fixed Soul Cannon Shell and falling from the inner city wall had done considerable damage to his body, even though he had sixth-tier cultivation and had protected himself with spirit power.
Yet the blast's shock wave alone had nearly injured him badly and knocked him unconscious. Had he not been lucky enough, falling from up there like that might not have left him in his present state. He sighed, feeling both helpless and fortunate.
He had wanted to stand, but the moment he exerted himself, sharp pain shot through his legs. Though both legs were intact, he knew the bones were probably broken. He was already a sixth-tier Guardian Knight, yet his bones could still break. A bitter smile appeared on his face.
All he could do was wait for some of his spirit power to recover, then