The Flying Dragon gave a weak cry, its gentle gaze fixed on Han Ning's group.
This was a Brass Flying Dragon with D+ Talent, a Sub-dragon Species. A deep gash had been cut into its abdomen by some unknown sharp object. A thick Gray Mist swirled over the wound's surface, frantically preventing it from healing.
Normally, the Dragon Race possessed formidable physiques. They didn't need treatment for minor injuries, or even slightly more serious ones, as they could rely on their own self-healing abilities to recover.
But now, with this strange mist getting in the way, even the powerful Flying Dragon had become incredibly weak.
This was all due to the Curse Secret Technique of the Alatak Clan!
'The Alatak Clan again. Have they also gotten involved in the war between the two races?' Han Ning's heart sank.
"Let me! I have Big Brother's potion!"
