"You dare speak to me like this?"
Qianye Zhenfeng's eyes flashed with a cold light, brimming with murderous intent.
The young officer's neck shrank, showing a look of fear; yet he still gritted his teeth and insisted: "Those are our soldiers over there, not from your Thousand Needle Country. Don't treat our soldiers as if they're not soldiers! If it were people from your Thousand Needle Country defending that hill, would you still do the same?"
"Indeed!"
Qianye Zhenfeng snorted coldly, took a stride forward, drawing the bow to full tension!
"Sir! You can't do this!"
The young officer panicked and shouted loudly.
But as soon as his words came out, he saw Qianye Zhenfeng flick out a hand, a light flick of the finger.
A stream of Primordial Power shot out from the tip of his finger—swoosh, the young officer's head was pierced with a large hole. With eyes wide and a face filled with unwillingness and fear, he fell backward.
