However, despite Carefree Meng Lan and Ling Yueyaya giving it their all, they were still at a disadvantage against the powerful man. At this moment, Jin Zizaidun couldn't help but frown. The bloodstain on his left shoulder throbbed faintly, and his left arm hung limply, clearly heavily injured. Yet, his right hand tightly gripped a dark green flute; their hope lay therein.
The flute was crafted from jade and shimmered with a beautiful radiance. There were three round holes on its body. Jin Zizaidun had heard of the legends surrounding this astrological flute before, knowing it possessed mysterious powers. However, at this moment, he hesitated.
"What's happening? Those wild spirits have clearly come, why are they not attacking these bastards?" Jin Zizaidun mumbled to himself.
