Lu Xuan merely tapped the carriage window lightly with his fingertip, and the twelve guardians outside immediately understood.
Cao Er pointed his blade, and the Dongchang formation parted like a tide to reveal the ominous crossbow formation behind.
The tips of the cold iron arrows glowed blue in the sunlight, each one laced with deadly poison.
"Old monk,"
A cold voice came from within the carriage, "do you think my arrows are faster, or do you think you monks will die faster."
In front of the mountain gate, Mr. Beifeng's crimson cassock moved on its own, flapping without wind.
This highly revered Buddhist leader, at this moment, had unprecedented gravity in his expression.
His deep gaze swept over the ominous formation, his heart as clear as a mirror.
The black official carriage before him represented not only the formidable power of the Dongchang Supervisor but also the majestic imperial authority of the Great Yu Country!
