As they spoke, a few silhouettes came crawling over, resembling rolling snowballs. The sound of laborious heaving could be heard, even from hundreds of feet away.
"Hu… hu…" The Summer Bearer who wore red swayed on his teetering feet and collapsed. His forehead knocked onto a huge rock with a bang, losing any semblance of his masterly flair. Thankfully, his head was harder than the rock as the boulder split with a sharp crack.
Then, he was sprawled across the ground, unable to move, but he could still be heard panting and saying, "Uh… Cough – cough… Hah… Hu… Dead tired… Next…"
Even as he spoke, white froth with strings of red actually began foaming from his mouth. It was evident that he was not only fatigued but internally injured as well.
Exerting oneself so intensely and for such a long time was indeed a challenge, even for the deities.
Mr. Nian stood up abruptly. "Those who can still take it – follow me. Victory is ours if we hold out to the end!"