Adrian's thoughts snapped into sharp focus the moment he saw the Vermilion Spirit Grass clenched in the scrawny disciple's hand.
Idiot.
That single word echoed in his mind, directed not at the disciple—but at himself. He had been so caught up watching the clash between two Rank 4 beasts that he had nearly forgotten the very reason all of this chaos existed in the first place.
A Rank 4 herb.
Something that could help him tremendously right now. And now, it was slipping away.
The disciple groaned as he slammed into the ground, rolling several times before coming to a stop. His robes were torn, his body bruised, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Yet despite his miserable condition, his grip on the Vermilion Spirit Grass remained ironclad.
Relief flickered across his face when he realized he was still alive.
Then he saw Adrian. Their eyes met, and a strange atmosphere permeated between them.
