A ragged looking Yang Xin, trembling from head to toe, slowly lifted his upper body from the ground, "Urgh!" Suddenly, a stream of blood spurted from his mouth.
Yang Xin quickly stretched out his hairy, large hand to cover his mouth, but the gushing blood continued to flow through his dark hand onto his chest, instantly staining his clothes a bright red.
As Yang Xin, trembling, slowly moved his hand away from his mouth and held it before his eyes, his black, long-haired hand was already smeared with fresh red blood.
This was all real, all of it! I, Yang Xin, the genius disciple of the Shaoyang Sword Sect, a two-star Martial Venerable, have had my Dantian shattered, reduced to nothing but waste.
At this moment, how Yang Xin wished this scene before him was a mere nightmare! How fervently he hoped to awaken from it soon if it were so!
