"We've finally been waiting for you."
Wu Di pulled the corners of his mouth into a strained smile and rasped, "You're so slow..."
The moment he finished speaking, he passed out. Like a sandbag filled with iron filings, he crashed heavily to the ground. Yet his remaining hand still clutched the Black-Tassel Spear tightly, unwilling to let go.
Wan Haihao gritted his teeth, grabbed him, and tossed him over his shoulder.
For someone like Wu Di, a thick-headed fighter who battled until he was utterly exhausted and then passed out on the spot was nothing unusual.
That fellow had never known the meaning of strategic withdrawal or retreat. The fact that he had survived until now was practically a miracle.
"The enemy is obviously carrying out a decapitation operation. As long as we protect Brother Ran and withstand this wave of attacks, we'll win!"
"There are too many enemies. Staying here will only get us killed for no reason. Gather at Brother Ran's side first!"
"We can die, but the Prophet must live! As long as he's alive, there's still hope!"
The dense curtain of rain obscured everyone's vision, making the voices indistinct and chaotic as well.
No one could clearly tell who was shouting in the downpour, but everyone shared the same objective.
Song Chu merely made sure Wan Haihao and the unconscious Wu Di remained within his field of vision. Bringing up the rear all the way, he killed every enemy he encountered.
After who knew how long, he suddenly ran into Wan Haihao's back, and his footsteps ground to a halt.
Absentmindedly moving his stiff, numb hands, Song Chu finally noticed that Zhu Hanyi, Dong Huaiming, Gray, Zhang Qianren, and the others had already gathered together.
As the group's backbone, Ma Ran was not sitting calmly indoors