The pain surged to his mind immediately after he ceased his cultivation technique, especially from his shoulders that had been pierced by two ice spikes.
Xu Yuan's body had indeed taken on some traits of the peculiar specters, but it was not a true specter's physique after all. Using the Black Death Mycelial Mat to forcibly seal the wounds was merely a temporary measure. As the mycelial mat receded, fresh blood began to seep from the wounds once more, and the repulsion between the fungal matter and his flesh caused an insufferable burning itch to spread.
Exhaling a turbid breath gently, Xu Yuan looked around him.
The neatly arranged terraces underneath the moonlight were no more, everywhere he looked was in disarray, the devastating aftermath of the battle left countless pools of water of varying sizes on the ground.