My Fine Big Son

Li Hao staggered a few steps before falling to the ground.

Blood flowed down his face from his scalp, its heavy rusty scent drilling into his nostrils, mingled with the fishy smell of dirt.

He was in a miserable state, but the pursuers laughed smugly.

"Wanxiu Mountain's prized disciple is nothing special after all."

"I thought only prodigies were qualified to claim such kills. Even third-rate Hunters like us can reap this honor now!"

"Don't joke around. Every sect has its elite and its deadweight. The one we caught is deadweight."

"Kill him quickly, then go find the target."

A hand grabbed his topknot and forced Li Hao's head back, exposing the vulnerable fatal point of his Adam's apple.

Yet after waiting a long while, the lethal blow meant to shatter his throat never came. Instead, a hand reached over, holding the weapon he had dropped earlier—the Gilded Long Staff.

"Why are you in such a sorry state?"

At the sound of that familiar voice, Li Hao's tensed body instantly relaxed. He blurted out, "Zhou You!"

A moment later...

On hastily shaped stone stools, Zhou You and Li Hao, old friends reunited, were filled with emotion.

As Li Hao wiped the blood and grime from his face and wolfed down wine and meat to replenish his strength, he recounted how he had become embroiled in this great battle.

It turned out that although Wanxiu Mountain had been surrounded by witches, its lines of travel had not been cut off.

Lianzi Xiu, Dian Xiu, and the others still came and went freely, threatening the retreat routes of the Witch Clan Tribe besieging the mountain from the rear.

Li Hao had followed Sun Dingxiu, the Water-Splitting Divine Staff, into repeated charges against the Witch Clan Tribe, but they had accidentally become separated.