82 Against All Odds

A man who could sense something amiss and also her existence inside the tent was certainly not as boorish as his speech had made him sound. It should be a seasoned general who was extremely familiar with the smell of blood and corpses. He was going to be a tricky opponent.

Outside the tent, the general named Old Ha abruptly made a flip backward, and still, in mid-air, he ordered gravely, "Assassin! Archers gather!"

Before he could finish his sentence, a black shadow flashed by as a slender figure shot out from inside of the tent. In a quick, wind-like movement and a one-handed wave, the figure had already reached his chest.

On the jade-colored blade ray, the general's shocked expression was reflected. With no time to speak, he staggered backward but was still unable to escape from Meng Fuyao's attack, which was infused with Cleaving Nine Heavens' inner energy.

An arm came loose and rolled to the dusted ground, coloring the sand red.