Li Zheng took in the fleeting prompt text, his eyelids twitching twice, maintaining a calm expression, but inwardly he asked, "How much more blood does it want to draw before it stops? I'm about to reach my limit!"
The Golden Dragon's eyes turned from red to purple, with the color becoming increasingly deep, gradually shifting toward black.
In contrast, Li Zheng's originally healthy and rosy complexion slowly became pale, a touch of ashen pallor creeping onto his forehead, akin to a dying person.
Moreover, as his body weakened, the jet-black hair behind him sensed the opportunity, bizarrely twisting and turning, while whispers at his ear grew louder, as if standing in the center of a plaza with tens of thousands of people speaking all at once.
"Be quiet!" Li Zheng, irritated by the noise, angrily rebuked.
But the whispers didn't lessen one bit; instead, they grew even louder, eventually drowning out his hearing, with countless murmurs echoing around him, their meaning unclear.
