After going through hardships, Xiao Yi and his companions finally found a cave, which seemed to be a safe haven. They dragged their tired bodies and filed into the cave. After entering the cave, they collapsed on the ground.
Xiao Yi felt that his physical strength had been completely overdrawn, and his head became dizzy. Under this extreme fatigue, he could no longer hold on, his body softened, and he fell straight down.
After using up the last bit of his supernatural power, he finally couldn't hold on any longer, and his body fell straight down like a kite with a broken string.
He lay on the ground, his eyes closed, his face as pale as a sheet of paper, devoid of any color. His lips were pale and slightly parted, as if even breathing had become incredibly difficult. His forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat, a sign of extreme weakness from overdrawing his supernatural powers.
His body was limp, his limbs drooping limply, as if he had lost all strength. His chest rose and fell faintly, indicating that he still had a trace of life.
When everyone saw this scene, their faces were filled with panic and worry. They quickly gathered around, their eyes filled with anxiety and uneasiness.
Some people called Xiao Yi's name anxiously, their voices trembling, "Xiao Yi! Xiao Yi, wake up!" Others were distressed, their eyes red and tears welling up in their eyes, "How could he be like this? He must be okay."
They frantically tried to do something to help Xiao Yi. Some tried to help him up, while others anxiously discussed countermeasures. Everyone's face was filled with concern for Xiao Yi. Their eyes were fixed on Xiao Yi's frail body, praying that he would recover as soon as possible, as if Xiao Yi was their backbone and they couldn't lose him. The whole scene was filled with an atmosphere of tension and worry, and everyone's heart was tightly clenched together.
Seeing this, his companions quickly gathered around. "Xiao Yi, Xiao Yi, how are you?" Someone anxiously called his name. Everyone's face was filled with worry. They knew that Xiao Yi had always been the backbone of the team, and now that he collapsed, everyone's heart was in their throat.
Someone quickly brought out some water, trying to get Xiao Yi to drink some to regain some strength. Others began to check Xiao Yi's physical condition to see if he was injured. The cave was filled with a tense atmosphere. Everyone was silently praying for Xiao Yi, hoping that he could recover as soon as possible. After all, no one knew what kind of difficulties and obstacles were waiting for them on the road ahead.
The doctor's forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat, which gleamed with nervousness under the light. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were fixed on the wounded man's bloody wound, his expression focused and anxious.
He quickly put on his gloves, his hands trembling slightly, revealing his inner nervousness. Then he picked up the suture needle, the needle tip gleaming coldly under the light.
He took a deep breath and began to carefully insert the needle through the skin at the edge of the wound, his movements both gentle and precise. Every time he threaded the needle, his eyes were extremely focused, as if the whole world was only him and this wound.
His fingers deftly manipulated the suture needle, sometimes tightening the thread, sometimes adjusting the angle. His body leaned forward slightly, almost touching the wounded, concentrating on the suturing work.
As time went on, his breathing became a little faster, but his hands did not slow down at all. Sweat slid down his cheeks and dripped onto the wounded, but he did not bother to wipe it off.
The assistant beside him handed him various tools, which he took swiftly and accurately, without a single unnecessary movement. His lips were tightly pursed, and he occasionally issued brief instructions, his voice full of urgency.
As he frantically stitched the wounded, they occasionally groaned in pain, which only made his expression more solemn and his movements more cautious, striving to alleviate the patient's pain. The entire scene was filled with a tense and busy atmosphere, as if every second seemed particularly long, while the doctor devoted all his energy to stitching the wounds of the wounded, hoping to get them out of danger as soon as possible.
A light drizzle began to fall outside the cave again, the fine threads of rain forming a web that enveloped the entire world. As the rain continued, the temperature dropped even lower, and the cold air moved through the cave like a ghost.
After the battle, everyone seemed to have lost all their strength.
Some of them slumped on the ground, leaning against the wall or other objects, their legs stretched out weakly, as if they had lost the ability to support their bodies. Some of them closed their eyes tightly, their faces full of fatigue, and their breathing became heavy and slow.
Their clothes were disheveled, stained with dust, blood, and traces of battle, and their hair was tangled, as if they had been through a storm.
Some of them had their hands hanging by their sides, their fingers still slightly bent, as if they hadn't fully recovered from the intense battle. Their faces were filled with fatigue and vicissitudes of life, their eyes empty and confused, as if they were still immersed in the aftermath of the fierce battle.
Some had chapped lips and sallow complexions, with traces of battle shouts still lingering at the corners of their mouths. Their bodies trembled from time to time, a reaction to excessive fatigue and tension.
The communication between them became rare and weak, with only a few low sighs or short words occasionally emitted, and the voices were full of fatigue and helplessness.
The surroundings were in shambles, contrasting with the exhaustion of the crowd, further highlighting the cruelty and difficulty of this war. Everyone seemed to have been drained of every last bit of energy, struggling to recover amidst the post-war ruins, trying to slowly recover from their exhaustion.
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