"Finally, you're here."
Wu Di forced a smile, hoarse, "So slow..."
As soon as he finished speaking, he fainted, collapsing heavily on the ground like a sandbag filled with iron sand, but his remaining hand clutched the Black Tassel Long Spear tightly, unwilling to let go.
Wan Haihao gritted his teeth, grabbed him, and slung him over his shoulder.
For an Iron Head like Wu Di, fighting to the point of exhaustion and fainting on the spot was practically routine.
This guy never understood what strategic withdrawal and retreat meant. Surviving until now was a miracle.
"It's clear they are attempting a decapitation strike. As long as we protect Brother Ran and withstand this wave of attacks, we will win!"
"There are too many enemies. Staying here without regrouping with Brother Ran only means pointless death!"
"We can die, but the Prophet must live! As long as he's alive, there's still hope!"
