When Carson Flores and Shirley Miller arrived at the battlefield, Jonah Arnold had already brought Cora Tate out from beneath the crater-like depression.
Cora Tate was pale, her eyes tightly closed, covered in blood, and her magic robe was tattered; she had fainted.
In the sky, the cloak behind Leland Conley flapped fiercely, revealing the deep red beneath. The swirling red and black added an aura of mystery and power to him.
"Fellow Daoist Cora is formidable. I had to give it my all, using every technique without holding back. I'm sorry for injuring you, Cora, but with proper recuperation, you'll be fine..."
Leland Conley's voice was clear and magnanimous, making it hard to harbor resentment as he spoke the truth.
In top-level confrontations, life and death hinge on a moment's difference. Who dares hold back?
