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The Counterattack of the Youths from the Orthodox Academy

The horseman was about twenty years old, his appearance fine and delicate yet carrying a cold and noble aura. When he spoke and his gaze fell upon the shattered gate of the Orthodox Academy, it was like he did not even see the hurried figures of Chen Changsheng and the others, making him seem arrogant to the extreme.

Chen Changsheng and the others had come in a hurry. Tang Thirty-Six was tying his hair in a bun, but when he saw the scene before him, he couldn't help but stop. After hearing the words of that young horseman, he squinted his eyes, glanced behind him, then turned and headed back into the Orthodox Academy without speaking a single word.

Xuanyuan Po did not see those horsemen, only that dying warhorse collapsed in the puddles of water. He was a demi-human youth and so recovered from injuries extremely quickly. His right arm still needed treatment from Chen Changsheng, but his left leg was already better, so he did not require crutches to slowly walk over to it.