Lan Yuan stood up. His spiritual power had recovered to about 50%. Although it was not strong enough, it was enough to maintain basic mobility.

He clenched his fist, feeling the power flowing through his meridians again, then looked up at Chen Ping, his voice hoarse: “My sister is still in the square.”

Chen Ping looked at him, his purple eyes completely calm: “I know.”

“I can’t leave her behind.”

Lan Yuan’s voice carried an almost stubborn determination, “She is my sister. I came here to save her.”

“Going back now will only make her situation worse.”

Chen Ping’s voice remained calm, yet carried an undeniable chill: “You can’t beat those three elders, nor can you beat Shen Tianhai.”