Palace Master Du's Ritual

As he spoke, black smoke was flowing out from the clone's wounds. Just like before, his body was automatically expelling the air of degeneration that had seeped into his wounds.

"What a pity that such wounds don't last too long on my body. I don't think that I'll be able to determine the concentration gradient of the air of degeneration for you at this rate… Ah!"

With a cry of agony, the clone lowered his head, only to see Zhang Xuan's sword lodged in another part of his body.

"You don't need to worry about that. It'll be tiring, but I'm willing to take up the responsibility of ensuring that there are plenty of wounds on your body so that you can get the job done," Zhang Xuan said with a smile.

With veins bulging at his temples, the clone felt tempted to smash Zhang Xuan's head in.

With a helpless sigh, he dragged his wounded body around the area to test the concentration gradient of the air of degeneration.