Smile.

A week passed.

Mark felt his eyes burn at the sensation of the sun. His surroundings were filled with corpses of Tier 2 creatures. Even though they couldn't harm him any longer after he gained the Armor of the Savage trait, they could still hinder his escape.

A proud laugh echoed into Mark's ears. "Demon Boy, give up and die. You haven't even had the chance to sit for the last three days, and the number of Tier 3 creatures in my army is increasing by the day. You are running away for no reason, there is no hope for you."

Spitting out blood, Mark took off in flight. Numerous flying ships moved towards him from all directions. Most of them had Tier 3 creatures at the helm!

If he got caught, he was hundred percent going to die.

If he kept running, his mental state wouldn't be able to keep up for much longer.

Since he couldn't escape from these people's detection either, he had no escape route.