"If the Mountain Master is to die in battle, the two of us should also flee in opposite directions. Ah, wait a moment, has the Golden Armor Guard been beheaded?" the talking sparrow exclaimed with wide eyes.
It shouted excitedly, "The brilliance of the Mountain Master has lit up the desert today, with a strike of the Saint Slayer!"
The Crimson Eagle could not speak; otherwise, it would have retorted by now, thinking: What are you ranting about? We were about to flee just now!
Qin Ming's mouth was full of blood foam, and his internal organs were in severe pain. His hands were swollen like bear paws, filled with lacerations, and his finger bones were nearly visible.
Although his body was in pain, his spirit was quite satisfied. He propped himself up to sit and wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth.
"Crimson Eagle, carry me away!" He knew he couldn't delay. If there were more pursuers behind, he would surely perish here.
