And he himself stood at a high point, took a bow from his subordinate, nocked an arrow, and aimed the arrow at Jih Heng from afar. His hand suddenly shifted, re-aiming at Jiang Li.
He slowly drew the longbow.
Jiang Li was held by Jih Heng. Jih Heng sat behind her, the horse galloping rapidly. She could only see the arrows flying like rain around them, landing in the snow, the accumulated snow seemingly covered by a layer. Some of the death warriors Jih Heng brought had died, but more archers had perished. Their bodies lay scattered across the plain, the snow beneath them gradually stained red.
This was clearly not a battlefield, yet it was even more brutal than one. The disparity in strength ensured that this conflict was destined to be a life-and-death struggle. Jih Heng's sarcasm seemed so relaxed, showing no concern towards Yin Zhili, but only Jiang Li, beside Jih Heng, could truly sense that at this moment, he was indeed doing his utmost to protect her safety.
