"Zhong, I'm injured. You run first; don't worry about me!"
Outside the valley, roughly a hundred meters from the iron gate, Li Hu glanced back at Wu Xiong who was drawing closer, gritted his teeth, released Yang Zhong's hand, and pushed him directly toward the iron gate, signaling him to escape quickly.
Moments ago, during Wu Xiong's ruthless slaughter, his legs were accidentally struck by the Blue Fire Saber. Although they weren't severed, they were covered in a layer of dew. As the dew's temperature rose, his mobility was nearly lost.
If Yang Zhong hadn't been supporting him, he wouldn't have made it this far.
The three young masters and a group of Cold Resistance Level individuals had already fled. If they didn't quicken their pace, Wu Xiong would soon reach them.
