That shrill, piercing scream, like the cry of a night owl, echoed between heaven and earth, filled with madness and unwillingness.
The few dozen black-clad riders left had been scared out of their wits by Shi Feiyang's godlike might; now, seeing the Blood Rakshasa backing them, they were like drowning men grasping at a life-saving straw, and a flicker of hope rekindled in their hearts.
They all spurred their mounts at once; in an instant, the thunder of hooves rolled out, dust billowing skyward.
The black-clad men shouted in unison, swinging the long cavalry sabers in their hands; cold light flashed as, like a pack of ravenous wolves, they madly pounced toward Gong Simeng and Liu Guihua and the children in their arms and on their backs, intent on hacking everyone before them into countless pieces.
