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Tap, tap—
A team of soldiers, clad in treasured armor and expressionless faces, emerged from the shadows.
The leader, dressed in a golden armor, glanced apprehensively toward the direction where Zhang Jing had just disappeared, and then calmly walked over to the corpse of the dwarf and slowly pulled out the golden arrow.
Clearly, it was he who had shot the arrow.
"My lord, he was the only witness, why did you—?"
Someone asked, puzzled.
"What witness? We're just here to collect the bodies. What does their fight have to do with us?"
The leader in the golden armor looked quizzically at the person who had spoken, then glanced over his subordinates and shouted:
"What are you still standing around for? Get a move on and clean up the scene."
"Yes, my lord!"
On the spot.
The golden-armored being looked at the dwarf's corpse, his expression changing uncertainly as if he were quietly explaining, or perhaps talking to himself.
