A deep, bone-revealing gash burst open on Gu Qilin's chest.
The shadow of the Infinite Scale tightly wrapped around the breastplate, attempting to suppress the wound... However, Gu Lushen's spiritual power rampaged at the location of the wound, time and again preventing it from healing itself.
A vast amount of blood spread out.
Mr. Gu's complexion turned deathly pale.
Crouched before the snowy woods, Gu Lushen gazed at the wound he had created and said softly, "Don't worry... this injury won't be fatal. Just lie here peacefully, and wait for the turmoil at the mausoleum to end. Once I become a Divine Throne, I will naturally come to save you."
Gu Qilin wanted to speak.
But at his throat, a rich scent of fresh blood surged up.
He coughed violently, so weak at the moment that he couldn't utter a single word.
"Save your strength,"
