Zhang Zhao pressed the attack, driving his dagger straight into the other man's chest. Blood gushed forth.
He pulled out the dagger, twisted at the waist, and slammed a fierce spinning kick into another enemy's abdomen, sending him flying several meters before he crashed heavily to the ground, unable to get up for the moment.
Han Wu, who was doing his utmost to suppress Mu Qi, caught sight of Zhang Zhao successfully breaking free from encirclement and knocking down one of his own men from the corner of his eye. His expression instantly darkened.
He immediately shouted at the men surrounding Zhang Zhao, "You don't need to kill him on the spot. Just hold him down firmly. Once I'm done dealing with the matter at hand, I'll come over and take care of him."
"Got it, Boss." The underlings answered in unison, a trace of fear in their voices.
They immediately changed tactics. No longer rushing forward with fierce attacks, they adopted a steady approach and began circling around Zhang Zhao and the metal puppet.
Mu Qi seized a fleeting opening and slashed at Han Wu's right leg, hoping to restrict his movement.
But Han Wu's reaction speed far exceeded his expectations. With a twist of his wrist, he accurately raised the Wolf-tooth Club in front of his right leg.
With a crisp clang, Mu Qi's saber was easily knocked aside, and the force left his wrist numb.
His first strike failed, but Mu Qi refused to give up and immediately changed his attack angle several times in succession.
He attacked from different positions—the top of the head, the waist, the knees, and elsewhere—but Han Wu blocked every strike with pinpoint precision. Not one managed to hit its target.
His mood grew increasingly grim. He knew all too well that