CHAPTER 1751: CHAPTER 1803: I WON

Ten minutes later, on the other side of the island, a white garment with blonde hair suddenly appeared on the sea surface, soon followed by black hair. Two figures slowly swam toward the shore, where the sandy ground was, and they walked onto the shore.

It was the Saintess who had jumped into the sea to search for Li Yifei, along with Li Yifei who had been held by Satan and jumped into the sea, disappearing for nearly twenty minutes. At this moment, his body was half-naked, with many bruises on his upper body, one arm hanging limply, seemingly broken, with numerous bruises on his face, and a bite mark on his buttocks that didn’t seem human, but rather... left by a shark.

The Saintess still looked okay, just missing her veil, dragging Li Yifei ashore, placing him on the shore. At this moment, the dark clouds in the sky gradually thinned, the fierce wind weakened, and the downpour slowly stopped. The Saintess didn’t have time to dry her clothes, laying Li Yifei on his back, she took a deep breath and approached to give him artificial respiration.

After a few breaths, she paused to perform chest compressions on Li Yifei, her actions gentle, worried that too much force might crush Li Yifei’s bones, given that he was already suffering multiple fractures.

Now wasn’t the time to worry about avoiding suspicion, moreover, they had kissed before, so artificial respiration wasn’t that big of a deal.

But this scene was observed by a woman sheltering from the rain in the distance among the trees. When she saw the Saintess and Golden Eagle emerging from the sea in such a sorry state, she was stunned, and seeing the two kissing made her feel even more unreal, even though she knew it was artificial respiration, she was still somewhat dumbfounded.

She could only cover her mouth, afraid the Saintess would notice and come to silence her. The scene was a sight she’d vowed never to disclose, witnessing such intimacy between the Saintess and Golden Eagle was a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of luck.

The Saintess hadn’t noticed any of this, let alone being seen. At this moment, even if the Holy War Organization tried to stop her, she would still save Li Yifei, no one could prevent that.

Li Yifei coughed a few times, waking up from unconsciousness, and opened his eyes, seeing the gorgeous Saintess before him. Her hair was still damp, her eyes filled with urgency, prompting Yifei to attempt a smile.

"You’re awake?" The Saintess spat out the bitter sea water and her eyes brightened.

Li Yifei gently nodded, saying, "I’m alright, thank you."

The Saintess shook her head softly, dismissing any need for thanks. Seeing Li Yifei attempting to sit up, she quickly asked, "How do you feel? If you can’t manage it, just keep lying down."

After the torrential rain, Fog Island unexpectedly welcomed a brief interval of clear weather, with visibility of the blue sky. Li Yifei shook his head slightly, coughed twice, and said, "I’m fine. The pain’s numbed me all over. Go ahead, pinch me if you don’t believe."

Seeing Li Yifei still in the mood to crack jokes, the Saintess couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him.

Yet her gaze contained endless tenderness. Li Yifei wasn’t comatose the whole time; in fact, he floated to the surface himself and spotted the Saintess swimming over. Once she reached him, Li Yifei relaxed, closed his eyes, and then... he choked on a few mouthfuls of seawater before passing out.

Li Yifei coughed once more and, still assisted by the Saintess, managed to sit up. He glanced around and realized they had circumvented to the other side of the island.

Finally, people noticed them, quickly shouting. On the other side of the island, many had been waiting almost hopelessly. They were absolutely unwilling to believe that this battle with the storm had claimed three Unparalleled Experts. The five members of the Phantom Squad refused to accept this, while the members of the Holy War Organization were even more hesitant to face it. If the Saintess had fallen, what would become of the Holy War Organization for decades to come? After all, the Saintess’s lineage passes from one generation to the next; if this generation’s Saintess suddenly died, there would be a grave disconnect.

Having waited so long without seeing the Saintess, they were nearly on the brink of collective despair. At this moment, hearing someone shout, asserting that the Saintess and Golden Eagle were on the other side of the island, was tantamount to hearing an angel’s voice. A group of people sprinted madly towards the opposite side of the island.

Also sprinting were the five members of the Phantom Squad, exerting all their might to run over.

However, a silhouette moved even faster—it was Mig. Sprinting swiftly like lightning, his speed rivaled the likes of Sange. Under his lead, those brought by Mig were also dashing forward.

Mig’s speed was already fast enough, yet not the fastest—an imposing figure overtook him, quickly rushing to the forefront; it was the Chilean Wolf, Omba, displaying greater concern for the island’s situation.

Jiu Shan’s speed wasn’t slow either; he carried a deadly aura as if ready to kill once there, while Gan Ma sauntered slowly over, appearing not too hurried.

All of a sudden, everyone on the island dashed over as if catching some treasure. If there were a helicopter taking aerial shots right now, it would surely capture a spectacular scene: a group of experts frantically running in one direction—telling this story might leave few people believing it.

Li Yifei had already stood up with the Saintess’s assistance, and she had dried her clothes, donned her veil once more, and remained silent.

As they observed the approaching crowd, Li Yifei glanced back at the sea, his face devoid of expression, yet notably pale.

When the crowd finally arrived, Li Yifei sensed Jiu Shan’s murderous intent, felt Gan Ma’s slow but deliberate menace, and comprehended the worries of Mig and the Phantom Squad’s five members. Likewise, Li Yifei perceived the hostility from the Holy War Organization towards him. Seeing the Saintess standing unharmed held them back from outright losing control.

Many began slowing their pace, approaching gradually, their eyes fixed on Li Yifei, each harboring various thoughts. Given the situation just now, with Li Yifei standing by the sea and Satan nowhere to be seen, was there even a need to ask about the duel’s results?

Of course, the question had to be asked, and it soon was, voiced aloud by an African Chief: "Golden Eagle, what was the outcome of the duel? What about Satan?"

"I won!" Li Yifei’s voice wasn’t loud but traveled far—it was true, he wouldn’t lie. As for Satan... there was a hint of sadness in Li Yifei’s eyes. He lowered his head to gaze at the sand, licking his dry lips, and said, "Satan is dead."

He won and Satan was dead—those seven words felt more like thunder resonating within these people’s hearts. Had they been thinking before the battle, they never would have imagined Satan would die or even lose, and now Satan was dead, killed by Li Yifei.