In the depths of the secret chamber, Yin Wujiang curled up in a dark corner, with a bloody hole in his left eye. The blood had already coagulated into a black scab, a gruesome sight.
He sat cross-legged, forming seals with his hands, as the scarce True Qi within him flowed slowly, trying to suppress the severe injuries caused by the witchcraft backlash.
"Damn... you two little brats!"
Yin Wujiang gritted his teeth, the remaining right eye ablaze with a ghostly green fury.
He, a dignified Golden Core Realm expert, was actually wounded like this by two Foundation Establishment Realm juniors—this was an utter humiliation!
Even more alarming was that young man seemed to possess a strange power capable of restraining his cultivation technique.
While he was casting witchcraft earlier, he vaguely sensed the threat of that power, otherwise, with his cultivation, it would have been impossible to be backlashed to this extent.
"No, I must recover quickly..."
