Ye Xuan knew that these were all illusions produced by physical exhaustion, and no matter what, he could not pass out because once he did, he might never wake up again. Biting his own tongue to stay conscious, Ye Xuan stopped in a clearing.
Shaking his head, Ye Xuan felt his spirit had become much slower, and at this time, even an ordinary Martial Venerate expert could easily defeat him.
"My cultivation is still too low. In these ruins, there are too many who can kill me."
Ye Xuan sat down cross-legged on the ground and began to heal his injuries with the power of his cultivation. His previous thoughts were too naive; the people here don't care about your cultivation level — in their eyes, there is only treasure. They would do anything for it, casting aside any semblance of dignity, even if it meant the Saint Heirs from the Daluo Heavenly Palace would resort to any means to kill him.
