The silence lingered for too long for Xie Lian.
The long knife handle glowed red from the heat.
Mu Qing, despite the danger, shouted and loosened one grip, using the other hand to hang on for a moment before grasping it again.
However, his palms were already emitting wisps of white smoke.
Even from a distance, the group could sense the smell of burning flesh.
Hua Cheng casually released a silver butterfly.
The butterfly flapped its wings, flying several zhang before it had barely covered a third of the distance to Mu Qing when it transformed into a wisp of silver mist, vanishing into the air.
Xie Lian understood; he was demonstrating that even the spirit butterfly would be of no help.
It was a deadlock, not worth the risk of trying.
Mu Qing also witnessed the butterfly’s disappearance, his expression gradually turning desolate.
He realized that there was no one capable of saving him.
No one believed in him, and with the perilous situation he was in, Xie Lian would never risk his life to pull him back.
But despite his despair, he was unwilling to give up.
Gritting his teeth, Mu Qing shouted, “You may not believe in me, but I will never fall down like this!”
As he spoke, he exerted more force, attempting to spin and stand on the knife handle.