While Cao Xun was trying his best to stabilize the team, the group of people hidden in the dark gradually appeared.
They stood on a courtyard wall not far from Dasheng's army. In the middle was a man in black, tall and straight. On both sides of him were more than a dozen people in gray shirts. Indistinguishable. But one thing is certain, that is, each of their faces is covered with dark dyes, and one face is painted in such a mess that it is difficult to distinguish its true face, only a pair of piercing eyes are clearly visible. In the dark night, there was a dazzling luster, like a pack of wolves dormant in the dark, waiting for an opportunity.
"Who the hell are you?" Cao Xun asked sharply, holding the steel knife in his hand tightly.
The man in black at the head held a delicate crossbow in his hand, and it was obvious that he shot the sleeve arrow just now. He looked down at Cao Xun condescendingly, but coldly popped out one word: "Action."
