The group of warriors who came solely to kill bandits moved too far ahead too quickly, their clothes too flimsy, easily torn apart.
Jiang Anyi was pierced through the heart, pinned to the ground.
Wang Anfeng's pupils contracted, his entire body froze, eyes staring forward.
He saw even further into the distance.
At the same time, the mountains on both sides collapsed with a roar, large rocks falling down below.
In panic, many martial artists either fled forward or retreated back, thus enduring numerous attacks. Almost everyone who survived was injured, buried under a military family's lethal formation accumulated for who knows how long.
Neat and uniform, the consecutive impacts of the military family's killing move, then ropes fell down from the cliffs on both sides, and martial artists in black armor descended from the heights. Unlike the Great Wilderness Stronghold bandits encountered before, these people's faces showed no angry madness, no hysteria of being cornered.
