C772 Missile

Qin Lang stood in the void and coughed violently. Every time he coughed, his Qi would decline once more. Even his hair had turned gray. In the end, his ink-black hair would turn into half gray and half white. His aura was like a candle flame in the wind, about to extinguish at any moment.

However, no one in the valley, no matter if it was Hsing Zhan or the other wolves