The Promise Religion dungeon was dark, damp and airtight.
Zhao Ling had stayed here all night, she quietly huddled herself in the corner of the dungeon.
The snake venom attacked more and more intensely. She felt as if her whole body was being roasted in the fire, and her heart felt like there were thousands of ants gnawing at it.
Her clothes were already wet with sweat, she licked her chapped lips, picked up the scalpel and slashed hard on her left arm. Blood immediately overflowed from the wound. The severe pain brought her consciousness back to a sense of clarity.
Thinking of the plan of the enchanting leader, she felt a little nauseated, so she propped herself up and retched a few times.
Suddenly, a white shadow shot from the only small skylight on the dungeon wall. Zhao Ling only felt a flower in front of her eyes, and there was a fluffy round thing on her chest. She took a closer look and saw that it was the little white fox that was in the jungle last time.
