The Conspiracy of the Thief and the Bandit

If Kuaishang died here.

His own secret would be buried with him.

And he could preserve himself until the danger passed.

For some reason, that thought suddenly occurred to Tales.

Is that so?

But before he had a chance to think it through, Tales took action.

"Tap!"

A Mercenary felt a sudden pain in the back of his head. He instinctively touched it and found a small stone lying at his feet.

The enraged man was just about to turn around and search for whoever had thrown it when—

"Hey!"

An angry roar rang out through the corridor!

The Calamity Swords, who had taken up their encircling formation, all paused and turned their heads.

At the end of the firelit corridor, the extraordinary young man—both in identity and ability—appeared from behind a concealed stone pillar, gripping a sword in both hands. His face was red and swollen, and he looked rather weak.

More than a dozen armed Mercenaries looked at one another.

The boy's chest heaved, but he glared fiercely at the dozen or so opponents before him and shouted:

"I'm here!"

The next second, the Mercenaries turned and spread out, revealing the Mercenary Sunny and Dean standing in the middle.

The former tugged at his battle-axe, while the latter was unarmed, with scratches still visible on his face.

The moment he saw the target, Sunny's eyes lit up. Dean, however, frowned slightly, his expression turning solemn.

"Great. That saves us a lot of trouble."

Sunny took a deep look at Tales. As he strode forward, he made a hand signal.

The Mercenaries beside him received the order and immediately changed targets.

Moving with disciplined precision, they spread out to both sides, slowly approaching Tales in a semicircle.

"Hey, let's deal with this one first..." Dean's anxious voice rang out.