Cyan Dragon's cyan robe was in tatters, barely clinging to his body. The veins on his entire right arm had burst, and blood was streaming down. His body was covered in wounds that looked like burns. His complexion was ghastly—so deathly pale that if you saw him in the middle of the night, you'd mistake him for a ghost.
Zhou Fan's condition was just as bad, if not worse. His clothes had been reduced to tattered strips. A piercing wound marred his left shoulder, and his right arm was dripping blood. His aura was in disarray.
It seemed that in the battle just now, neither had managed to gain an advantage over the other. Both were seriously injured.
But even so, a powerful fighting spirit still blazed in both their eyes, along with the excitement of having met their match.
