At first glance, Lin Zida's hand trembled in the flames, the gray fire giving off the odor of burning. This was Lin Du's soul fire, which had been altered by the stench of Lin Du's soul and bloodshed. Once eroded by the fierce soul fire, the soul would suffer intense pain.
Lin Zida seized the opportunity, refined his spirit, and killed off the illusion of a sword, piercing through the golden deer's head.
The arrogance of Lin Shuhao eased, and the student's darkness gradually dissipated. He felt tired all over. Painfully smiling, he said, "The students of war are useful, but they consume too much."
Lin Zida looked at the grass on the right side and said indifferently, "You've been watching for a long time, what is this called?"
"Have you found us?"
