"Give this to them, and they definitely won't doubt the truth of your words."
After spitting seven mouthfuls of blood, Ying Zhao's face paled significantly.
This pallor was visible to the naked eye, despite being pursued by Black Creek all the way, teetering on the brink of life and death, his complexion had never shown such pallor until now. Now Ying Zhao's face seemed like a rosy apple suddenly drained of all its color.
"Four Kings, we will certainly not dishonor our mission."
The seven once again swore in unison, then leapt up, transforming into Great Demons of the Wing Race, soaring straight into the sky.
Watching the direction in which the seven demons departed, Ying Zhao let out a deep breath.
Just as he was about to turn towards Wen Ping, he felt dizzy, stumbled, and almost fell to the ground, luckily supported by Long Ke beside him.
Seeing this, Yu Jiang spoke up, but his eyes had already closed, as if lifting his eyelids was beyond his capability.
