The result of waiting a bit, was more blood, more deaths.

The woman’s white clothes were gradually dyed red, and then diluted by the pouring rain. Her surroundings became even more muddy, becoming a scarlet red expanse. Meanwhile, the number of those still standing, was becoming fewer and fewer.

Perhaps because using this type of method to exhaust the other party’s soul force didn’t seem that honorable, the grim-faced middle-aged man’s head was tilted slightly downwards, a bit distracted as he stared at his own dripping cotton robes.

In the end, there was no longer a single other person standing around the white-clothed woman.

When the thirty or so masked swordsmen realized that they were the only ones left, their crazy bloodiness was finally suppressed by uncontrollable fear. However, before they turned around to run, the rain of arrows fired from the forest already turned them into porcupines.

Of the dozens of archers who were like stone sculptures, which one of them wasn’t an expert who could hit virtually any target within a hundred steps?

When faced with the arrow barrage, the white-clothed woman whose clothes were now stained dark red merely withdrew into the carriage. There were several black arrows she wasn’t able to cut down in time that landed on her body, but after a bit...