The strong wind was like a knife, blowing across the top of the broken spiritual veins. Su Han's consciousness was rising and falling in severe pain. The hollow feeling coming from his dantian was like thousands of ants eating his heart. It was a sign that his cultivation was completely destroyed. He was half-kneeling on the rugged rock, with a familiar long sword stuck in his chest. The blade of the sword was engraved with complex cloud patterns, but it was now covered with his blood. "Why... Senior brother..."
