As Zhao Min fell, her white robes were already mottled with blood. Beneath her right ribs was a mangled mass of flesh, blood still dripping without cease. She did not even have time to treat her wounds.
Only now did she truly understand how difficult it had been when Gong Chenying spoke of Li Yan and the others dealing with a Spirit Transformation cultivator.
They were already fighting for their lives, yet they were still being crushed, attacking little and defending much. No matter the outcome of each strike, their injuries only piled upon their injuries.
Compared to the wounds on their bodies, however, the injuries to Zhao Min and Gong Chenying's internal organs were even worse at this moment. Cracks had appeared in many of their organs.
Yet not the slightest trace of pain appeared on Zhao Min's face, as though that bloody flesh did not belong to her.
She first sensed the golden rope that had been relentlessly pursuing her from above suddenly vanish from over her head.
Then an even stronger pressure descended upon her. This only made her more vigilant. She thought the golden rope had concealed itself in the void just before striking, intending to launch a sneak attack.
But with a sweep of her Divine Sense, she discovered that section of golden rope again. At an unimaginable speed, it had passed over her and flown downward.
Startled and suspicious, Zhao Min swept her Divine Sense further along its path. Though agonizing pain bored into her heart, trapped within the green shell, she had remained calm all along.
But at that instant, sweat sprang across Zhao Min's forehead, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest.
Standing at the mountain gate was none other than Li Zhaoyan. At this moment, Li Zhaoyan was still