The two were not dead; at this moment, their entire faces were ashen, true darkness around their brows, and they were in a coma.
"Hahaha..."
On the other side, a purple-lipped, black-robed elder saw this and clapped his hands, laughing. The state of the two adversaries was ideal, perfect for him to capture their souls next and transform them into fierce ghosts in his banner.
"Uncle, there's still one person alive," said the stout young man beside him, looking at Qi Chuan with a bit of curiosity.
The two companions were incapacitated, unconscious, but this person continued to resist fiercely.
However, he should have little mana remaining, a spent force.
"Shall I handle it?" The stout young man stepped forward.
He didn't want to work for the old man; he simply wanted to have a go against someone from the Wind Moon Sect.
