He tugged at the corner of his mouth but wasn't too disappointed. First, he had expected this, as the small spirit stone was the worst among all spirit stones. Even if it could serve the purpose of the red and blue potion bottles for him, he didn't think the effect would be spectacular.
Secondly, he had another plan, which seemed to be the only self-rescue option at the moment—
No more hesitation, as every second's delay brought him closer to the second way of leaving the instance. With all his strength, he charged towards the rampaging Demon Ghost like a cheetah sprinting at full speed.
The Demon Ghost, with one eye pierced, raged in pain, flailing madly for a moment, finally stopped. Its horrible face, ugly as a skinned frog, was covered in blood. The remaining eye stared at him with resentment.
Resentment, hatred...
Most people would be terrified facing such a monster, and an injured, frenzied Demon Ghost is undoubtedly more dangerous than a regular one.
