Zhao Douan looked strangely at the masked assassin charging towards him and muttered, "Still quite a master. This leap is at least Middle Grade of the Divine Chapter, maybe even higher."
Eunuch Hai, folding his sleeves like an old steward of a young master, said, "To gather such a group of people, they're not a small character locally."
Zhao Douan nodded lazily, "Then break both legs and leave them with a breath."
As Zuo Rong got closer, a strong sense of unease grew in his heart. Out of the corner of his eye, he finally noticed a drunken swordsman with a wine gourd on his back and a curved saber in hand, suddenly stand up and leap forward.
"Swoosh!"
Lang Shiba's bright curved saber swept through, cutting both legs like reed stalks, plunging them into the river water. Zuo Rong's vision darkened, and he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, nearly fainting as he screamed loudly.
