"Get lost!"
Smack!
Larkin Davenport swung a slap, directly hitting the face of the person behind him.
The area was filled with corpses, the remains of the Undead Tribe everywhere!
Enemies were everywhere!
There were only a few dozen people, so why did it feel like an army of thousands!
Those people were sluggish and appeared no different from ordinary villagers.
Their movements were unhurried, seemingly lacking any skill.
Yet this group of ruffians was beating them with overwhelming force.
Almost every time they struck, a member of the Undead Tribe fell.
In this situation, Larkin Davenport instinctively swung out a slap and drew the broken sword, stabbing backward!
But his wrist was seized.
Han Caldwell's heart was startled.
Upon recognizing the person behind him, he exclaimed joyfully, "Mr. Caldwell! I finally managed to rescue you! Our brothers didn't die in vain!"
He shouted, "Brothers, Mr. Caldwell has been rescued! Everyone, retreat quickly!"
Rescue?
