An Lin knew that he was Dongfang Zhuangshi's final hope.
He was the final straw that Dongfang Zhuangshi could cling onto; his final roll of the dice.
However, An Lin was also in despair. He didn't even have any idea of what was going on, so how was he supposed to save Dongfang Mengjie?
Perhaps he would be able to figure something out if he were given some time, but now, time was something they sorely lacked. If Dongfang Zhuangshi couldn't hold on, and the white stone lost its source of energy, then those black lines in the air would instantly destroy Dongfang Mengjie.
"An Lin… Please…" Dongfang Zhuangshi gritted his teeth and frantically burned through what little remained of his blood essence as he tried to rectify the situation, but his aura was slowly growing weaker and weaker, and the black lines were constantly converging toward the woman he was trying so desperately to save.
