"Huff—hah!"
Gasping with ragged breaths, Lin Yong's face was etched with pain and exhaustion. Gripping his sword with one hand, his body was drenched in blood—whose it was, his own or the Deserters', he could no longer tell.
Having had an arm severed by Wang Junze, Lin Yong's injuries were already dire. Color had long since drained from his face, and after fleeing all the way to Broken Dragon Cliff, he'd now been abandoned by Lin Kaiwei. Surrounded and beset by the Deserters, his decline was clear—he was on the verge of collapse.
Yet, the Deserters cared nothing for his wounds, nor spoke of fairness. Seizing on Lin Yong's weakness, their assaults only grew fiercer.
After slaying three or four more Deserters in succession, Lin Yong was forced to the very edge of the mountain path, and could have plummeted into the chasm at any moment.
"Kill!"
Once more the murderous shouts of the Deserters roared in his ears. Seeing them charge, despair flickered in Lin Yong's eyes.
