Outside the tent, torches burned brightly, illuminating everything.
Eight or nine blonde-haired, blue-eyed men, exuding terrifying auras, patrolled the area.
Strangely, the large temperature difference and frequent storms of the desert night didn't affect the area around the tent at all.
It was as if some invisible walls were blocking everything from all directions.
Before long, three figures emerged from the darkness.
Cold.
Bone-chilling.
Ren Feifan's eyes fixed on the tent illuminated by the fire, the paper crane falling into his palm, ceasing its flight.
"Leng Qingqiu, is it these guys?"
Leng Qingqiu stared intently at the few people outside the tent, clenching his fists, and earnestly said: "Sect Leader, yes! It is them!"
"Let's go."
"But there are many of them, and their cultivation techniques are a bit strange..." Leng Qingqiu expressed concern.
After all, they only had three people on their side.
They were at a disadvantage in terms of numbers.
