In the darkness of the night, Luo Xiu staggered forward as if about to collapse, carrying Xia Chan in his arms. With each step he took, a bright red footprint was left on the ground.
He did not dodge or evade, no matter how the enraged Martial Artists slashed at him with their furious blades. Even with his formidable physical body, he could not withstand the endless hacking and stabbing. Besides, the weapons these Martial Artists wielded were anything but ordinary.
At this moment, Luo Xiu's clothes were tattered and he was covered in blood. Broken swords and poisoned needles stuck out from his back, legs, and shoulders. His body swayed, threatening to fall at any moment, yet his eyes remained resolute.
Having chosen this path, he would not regret it, nor would he consider the consequences.
