A moment later, only a mess covered with corpses is left on the ancient barbarian road, like an early onset of the rainy season, this piece of land was damp.
Over a hundred musketeer slaves, silent as cicadas in winter, hugged each other, their eyes dull. In front of them were men covered in blood, everything had happened too suddenly, neither the robbers nor the musketeers were ready for it.
The Salt Demons and Green Demons who came here with great dreams, except for a part who fled into the wilderness, only three Green Demon Shaman Wizards are still alive.
Two were trembling, one was in a coma.
"What a pity! Quite a few robbers have managed to flee, we couldn't trap them all." Liu Zhenhan embraced his Wolf Fang Club, lit a cigar against the wind, and shamefully observed the wilderness, the wind blowing away little droplets of blood dribbling from his thick formation.
