September Hook.
The snowflakes blanketed most of the arc-shaped mountain, and on the silver frost, many Sacred Heart disciples in ragged clothes raised their heads, their eyes lifeless and their limbs twitching.
As they walked aimlessly on the snow, their bodies trembled. Some had their limbs stuck to the ground, sniffing like wild beasts, while others spat out hot air from their mouths from time to time.
They were in a daze, like walking corpses.
Fatty Ji Yuan's face darkened as he looked at the Sacred Heart disciples that filled the mountains and plains. "We've been hiding for half a month. Are we going to be cowards all the time just because of Qin Huai?"
Zou Shuang remained calm, holding an iron pestle and grinding it on the whetstone. "If you ask me, you and I should directly invite the divine blood to our bodies. Wouldn't it be fine if we just pushed the Nine Dragons sect?"
