Commander Zhao is going to manipulate clouds to make it rain? What does that mean? The court tributor on the high hill paused for a moment, but the actions of Bai Sun trying to follow immediately drew his attention away.
"The master wants us to wait here, it's better not to go and cause more trouble now." Song Jinxi said in a flat tone, staring at Nie Yurong.
The female assassin hesitated for a moment, deciding it was not a good time, and stopped obediently, frowning as she gazed at Zhao Douan swiftly approaching the city gate in the distance.
At the same time.
A change occurred in the battle under the city walls, a sudden horn for retreat blew from the top of the wall, low and mournful.
"Dang—"
The monk Fan Long, battling Tang Jinzhong, swept his long staff across to block his opponent's sword, then turned his head to gaze at the slowly rising smoke from the top of the wall, instinctively whispered: "Amitabha Buddha..."
