Sufferance

“Quickly pursue, do not let that lad escape.”

“There, over yonder!”

“Hurry, hurry!”

“…”

Xiong Zhuangzhuang clutched his waist, where blood seeped from a gaping wound.

Despite the injury, he moved with agility, seemingly unaffected, yet his increasingly pallid complexion truly reflected his current condition.

He had been ambushed.

The assailants must have been tailing him for quite some time, seizing the opportunity to strike when he let his guard down, leaving him no chance to react.

Now, his only hope was to shake them off and secure a glimmer of survival.

But he knew his chances were slim.

His waist had been slashed by a sharp blade, coated with a special concoction that prevented the wound from healing.

To make matters worse, his supply of medicinal ointment had run dry.

He had planned to venture to the plains beyond the Ten Thousand Demon Ridge in a few days to purchase more, but now he wasn’t sure if he would even have that opportunity.