"...observed...they have already retreated, it seems they have given up attacking Thistlefort..." Angel's voice came intermittently through the consciousness communication.
"What about the target?"
"One... has left on their own... The other, I personally brought back."
"Understood, thanks for your hard work."
Chaoyang ended the conversation and lay back on the sofa, looking up.
A full one hundred and fifty thousand wishing power, gone in less than a day... This staggering expenditure not only brought mental pressure but unexpectedly made him feel physically exhausted as well.
When Chaoyang was younger, he had participated in long-distance races, tasting blood in his throat, his heart almost bursting out of his chest, each breath a stabbing pain, not much different from what he felt now. Coupled with the alarming loss of wishing power... It had been a long time since he last experienced this dual sense of fatigue.
