Hughes and Wood were dragged back continuously by a giant pulling force, escaping the range of the fatal attack, but hideous wounds appeared on both men's wrists, deep enough to reveal bone.
Wayner coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood, his face visibly turning pale. Orya hurriedly stepped forward to support him, her face also beaded with sweat.
Three sentences of ancient history uttered, shaking the power of the rules of ancient deities; the price to pay was not small. Orya had faintly heard chaotic ravings in her ears, warning that her mental limit was about to break, and she could no longer continue to use her ability. As a Rank 9 Savant, achieving this step, she had already tried her best.
That sentence related to the God of War was one she had deliberately chosen after careful thought and observing Alex. The young girl raised her head to look up; the War Adherent Alex was hovering within a miraculous red halo, and his eyes seemed to be dyed with the color of blood as well.
