Su Yun's voice reached Su Yu's ear and spurred him to shake his head enough to prevent him from passing out. He and York writhed on the ground until they could move no more. Sharp stakes pinned them tightly to the ground, and their bodies lay pressed together, their breaths audible to each other.
York's breaths came sporadically, the Tearing Storm had practically shredded his chest. His stubborn vitality as a Third Level Black Iron Warrior kept him alive. Even so, he had entered his final journey in life. A fizzling sound emanated from his body - his life's special power was evaporating, dissipating through his every pore.
Su Yu was doing slightly better than him, despite feeling faint in his head, unbearably tired. But his last bit of consciousness told him he must not fall asleep. Otherwise, he would never wake up.
