...
Faster!
Faster!
Faster still!
Luo Qingyao wished she could shatter the flying sword beneath her feet, just to gain a bit more speed.
The fear in her heart had reached its pinnacle.
Because just now, she suddenly couldn't sense her senior brother's life force. That grand and vast vitality had turned in an instant to something akin to a corpse in a grave, dust in a dilapidated temple.
On the flying sword beside her, Yan Hui was curled up, his face frightfully pale, muttering incessantly,
"A sliver of hope... a sliver of hope..."
Finally, they arrived.
Both of them saw the Yinghe Evil Beast, and the lifeless Fan Wubing.
Luo Qingyao's voice was desolate, "Senior Brother!" She was about to charge forward, disregarding everything, to slay the Yinghe Evil Beast.
Yan Hui used his last bit of strength to stop her, "No, don't go!" All ten of his fingers were broken.
Luo Qingyao never understood why this fortune-teller got close to them, what exactly was his purpose.
