Hearing the malicious voice, Layne's expression changed as he turned around abruptly.
He discovered that, at some point, a young man dressed in luxurious noble attire and a hunched old man were standing not far from the five mercenaries.
Moreover, around the necks of the five mercenaries who had just escaped death, several sharp ice blades emitting cold air were floating at different angles, rendering them motionless, frozen in place.
Without a doubt, as long as the caster had a single thought, these five bewildered mercenaries would be immediately covered in blood.
Seeing this scene, Layne furrowed his brows and looked back at the caster, the young man dressed in luxurious noble attire.
In stark contrast to his extravagant attire, the young man's pale face bore a chilling smile, showing seven parts condescension and three parts viciousness.
"Cliff, what do you want to do?"
