"Little He... He'er... you scum!"
A heart-wrenching cry came from not far ahead.
Xiahou Zhen and the other two hurried over and saw a burly man, wearing tiger skin with a face full of fierce flesh, dragging a woman's hair.
The woman, either unconscious or already dead, was being held like a chick in his hand, while his other hand held a nearly two-meter-long broadsword.
The broadsword gleamed coldly as it swung down.
Thud—
Bright red blood splattered, and the pleading villager was split in two.
Xiahou Zhen rushed forward instantly, throwing a punch.
Bam!
The fierce villain was sent flying back, dead without a doubt.
The woman, knocked around, barely opened her eyes, staring blankly first at her father lying in a pool of blood, and then tears gushed from her eyes like a fountain.
"My lord, it's the Black Wind Stronghold!" The constable who came with Xiahou Zhen recognized the bandit.
