Bi Fang slowly exhaled.
The Black Bear lay on the ground, its pupils tightly fixed on Bi Fang, the last moment of calm also hiding the fiercest offensive. Bi Fang understood this, much like the quiet before the wolves pounced on the deer coming to drink water, both sides often quietly gazing at each other.
In layman's terms, it's a cornered beast still fighting.
With six holes in its body, one reaching its organs and five nearly reaching the bone, if it were the food-scarce winter or even autumn, then the Black Bear would already be in a fatal situation. At this time, Bi Fang should have turned around and fled.
Even in the food-rich spring and summer, the Black Bear would likely die from an infected wound.
Bi Fang kept taking deep breaths, increasing the oxygen in his blood, and strived to push his response time to its peak.
From the charge to the brief separation, he had been holding his breath, and now the sudden calm made him feel somewhat dizzy.
