Ye Wen Fei, who dared not approach, muttered with her hands raised because she couldn't see the scene clearly:
"The Heavenly Disaster has dissipated, meaning the catastrophe has ended."
"If our clan brother has survived, doesn't it mean he has crossed the Heavenly Disaster, breaking free from the shackles that have existed since ancient times?"
"How can we save him?"
Ye Qianmo, pinching a tuft of his beard, said with a headache:
"I feel that he is only left with his last breath, similar to being on his deathbed. Even if we were to feed him holy medicine, there's no chance of survival."
"Let me try!"
The Lightning Pincer Centipede rubbed its hands together eagerly, nimbly crawling through Ye Qianmo's crotch, then reached out with its pincers straight for the Thunder Sword.
"Zzzzzz——"
Golden light erupted, and that golden Thunder Sword awoke as if an ancient deity revived from slumber.
