Ye Wushuang, die!
Blood Ghost's skull rose into the sky. A torrent of ghostly apparitions poured out of it, baring their fangs and brandishing their claws as they lunged for Ye Wushuang.
The disciples of Demon Abyss below took the opportunity to surround Ye Wushuang, cutting off his escape.
'It's over!'
Qianling sighed internally. 'It seems we're not getting out of this after all.'
"Junior Brother Ye, you have to go! I'll hold them off for you."
Qianling looked up and urged Ye Wushuang.
How could Ye Wushuang not understand Qianling's worry? He smiled. "We'll leave together."
"Still thinking of leaving? Dream on."
Mo Li gripped his Demon Spear and thrust it forward.
Ye Wushuang's eyes narrowed. He whipped his head around, his gaze as sharp as two saber glints.
With one arm around Qianling, he stood firm in the void. With his other hand, he drew his Dragon Blood Battle Saber and slashed through the air.
Instantly, a brilliant, blood-red saber light flashed into existence.
