Yet, the terrible fear of life and death clung to him like a festering wound, thoroughly shattering the Red-clothed Taoist's final defense.
His eyes turned crimson, and an unprecedented speed erupted from his entire body.
He transformed into a blurred afterimage, leaving bloody footprints in place, and dashed madly towards the corner of the secret chamber where the altar ruins lay.
Upon reaching the ruins, the Red-clothed Taoist frantically disregarded the blood flowing from his hands as they were cut by the rubble, using all his strength to push away the accumulated broken wood and shattered Magic Artifacts.
He muttered under his breath, seemingly trying to unearth a final chance of survival from this chaos.
Even though he was a magician who could command respect from common folk and secretly intimidate nobility.
But once stripped of the protection of magic skills, he was ultimately just a mortal frame of flesh and blood.
