Ai Yue's eyes once again bled profusely, like an undead roaring as they gathered in the magnificent sandstorm, greatly enhancing its ferocity.
Under the circumstances of Yuan Qing being seriously injured and undergoing treatment, the entire team had to rely on these two. If either of them could not hold on, their synchronized techniques would collapse.
At that time, the entire team would be doomed.
As the world's oldest Celestial Being Organization, these people never relied on modern technology. They had revered the bloody close combat for millions of years. Their combat instincts, honed over generations, were deeply embedded in their bones and were far beyond what these young soldiers could compare.
"Can you hold on?"
While Zong Si was controlling the sandstorm, his already sickly face turned even paler. His wheelchair was nearly unable to withstand the pressure, teetering on the edge of shattering.
