Despite Feng Yun's slaughter, guild members poured from every hall, every corner of the compound. They were desperate and reckless, their morale already shattered yet clinging to orders from above.
But Feng Yun was merciless.
His spear danced, each thrust claiming a life. Every motion was fluid, precise, beautiful in its lethality. Combined with the sword formation, the courtyard became a slaughterhouse.
Men screamed as their bodies were torn apart as their comrades fell beside them.
Still, they fought.
From the rear, a group of robed elders stepped forward, chanting in unison. Their qi merged, forming a massive array designed to break Feng Yun's formation.
Feng Yun's eyes narrowed. "So you had some tricks after all."
He bit down, throwing a handful of spirit stones into the formation. The lines on the ground flared brighter, the sword qi surging like a flood.
The elders' array cracked under the force, their bodies torn apart by blades before their chant could finish.
