To the southeast of the Stream City, in the wild, Lu Li had been running with the coffin. He seemed to be in a worse state. His hair was disheveled, and his robe was ragged. He got many scratches and blood was seeping out all over his body.
He looked very seedy, and his eyes were red as blood. He grimaced in pain and breathed heavily like a mad dog.
Sometimes, he was sober, and other times, he was confused. If it were not for the fact that he had strong will power, he would have completely lost his mind by now.
He had this feeling, this feeling that would not let him admit defeat or surrender to fate, that his body could not be taken by the demons, and that he could not be a dead man walking or become a demon.
For those couple of days, he had been fighting with the soul of the demon. For one moment, his Soul Pond was glaring in green, and for the next, white. It was him fighting for the dominance over his Soul Pond with the demon.
