Nie Li appeared in the field, already wearing a new and tidy set of clothes. Murong Yu was a short distance away, laying on the ground like a dead dog without a scrap of cloth on his body. He was covered in wounds and looked unconscious.
The spectators blankly stared at the scene.
“Heavens! What happened?”
“Murong Yu lost?”
“He’d already merged with his Saint Blood Draconic Falcon, so why is he still in such a miserable state?”