The one-armed man shouted something to the young man, Fengyu understood, "Run quickly!"
Xie Xun flipped his wrist, drawing the longsword out of the Beiman man's body, casually swung it, and blood gathered at the tip of the sword, dripping onto the river stones. His expression was cold and angry, "None of you will get away!"
As soon as the words fell, Xie Xun swung his sword upwards, and the sound of clashing blades was piercing.
Daylight broke through the thick clouds, startling birds from the distant mountains and forests, who flew into the sky shimmering in the light.
Xie Xun cut down three men, the morning light falling into his pupils but unable to warm the ice within. He swung his sword towards the always silent Beiman youth, "Dugu Jing, it's your turn!"
The ninth son of the Beiman King, Dugu Jing.
