For a long time, the dust gradually dissipated.
The mysterious figure held a spear, panting heavily, standing amidst the ruins, giving off a feeling of teetering on the brink of collapse.
His black robe was torn and tattered, like a ragged flag torn by a fierce wind, fluttering in the breeze.
His disheveled hair danced wildly, his face covered in dirt and blood, looking extremely wretched.
However, when gazing at Xu Wendong, his eyes were filled with gravity.
It was a fear of the strong, even though he was severely injured, his body on the verge of collapse, the defiance and reluctance in his eyes still burned fiercely.
On the other hand, Xu Wendong stood with one hand behind his back, spotless, and the slight curve of his lips revealed a sinister charm, sending chills down one's spine.
The mysterious figure was grim-faced, his hands trembling as he struggled to suppress his rampant injuries, and he summoned the trump card from his storage ring.
