At this moment, Yan Guying found himself trapped in the greatest crisis of his life.
The black-clad leader toyed with him like a cat with a mouse, his eyes filled with mockery, each casual move leaving Yan Guying utterly defenseless.
"Bang!"
Another punch sent Yan Guying flying, countless bones and tendons in his body fracturing.
"Pfft!"
He spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, clutching his fist tightly. His consciousness was beginning to blur, and he knew that if this continued, he would surely die today.
"Am I really going to die like this?"
Bitterness filled Yan Guying's heart. "Dying at the enemy's hands, though unwilling, is something I must accept. But to be betrayed by a scoundrel like Meng Guizang and die this way is hard to swallow!"
Has the world really become like this?
Yan Guying shook his head with a bitter smile, "Forget it, I'm a little tired..."
Yet, at this moment, a clear shout came from the sky.
"Little White, Eight Swords United!"
