His brain reeled, and Sword Intent raged chaotically within his organs.
Two hundred years of murderous intent would not be easily dispelled, rampant inside him like maggots on bones.
In Chen Qing's chest, blood flowed freely.
Chen Qing reached out for a wine gourd and took a sip of fish soup.
The bitter taste brought him back to his senses, slightly sobering him up.
Amidst the clang of swords and armor, Chen Qing's consciousness once again sharpened.
I cannot be defeated, nor do I have the right to be.
Should I fall, the Dragon Cavalry will surely descend into chaos.
Should I fall, Zhou Li will definitely not miss this opportunity.
Zhou Li handed Daoist Shasheng to a disciple of Bulao Mountain, drew his sword, and commanded, "Form up, slowly retreat!"
"Everyone, don't panic!"
Even though Zhou Li shouted himself hoarse, his soldiers still felt fear in their hearts.
Once Nanli's fierce tigers charge, they truly have the momentum of mountains and seas crashing down.
