Nine-handed swords, front and back, left and right, stabbed Mo Hanshan's upper body at the same time, pinning him firmly in place, making his whole person like a hedgehog, so miserable.
"Pfft..." Blood spurted wildly from Mo Han's mountain pass, the last qi that had been supported by his body finally dissipated, and his body gradually softened.
"You traitors..." He landed on his knees, maintaining a kneeling posture, one hand holding the hilt of the sword pierced into the chest, the other hand hooked with all five fingers, stretched forward, eagerly wanting to strangle those killers to death.
The few killers were not in a hurry to draw their swords, and took a few steps back, realizing that Mo Hanshan was sure to die, and their faces showed a bit of joy.
