A shadow suddenly appeared before his eyes, and the man's hair stood on end, sensing danger. With a fierce spring, he used the momentum to stand upright and, without even looking behind, he ran desperately forward.
"Crack," Qinghe's hands came off the man's neck, and she muttered under her breath, "It's just like killing a chicken. The neck breaks with a twist, and I didn't even exert myself."
All present were keen of hearing and sharp of sight; hearing her words, everyone involuntarily shuddered. Indeed, winter was coming, and the wind that blew was a chill wind, biting to the bone.
And by that time, their people had arrived.
Weisheng Yueren suddenly gave the command, "One hundred people, prepare for battle."
Treating his words like divine decree, everyone immediately got ready. Lei Zhan tossed him two guns, focusing intently on the forest ahead, obviously having detected something as well.
