The light radiating from the two Whiteflame Men in the distance looked like the first rays of hope to the three of them.
Now all they needed was one more move...
Then they could complete Little Black Wolf's glorious comeback.
Victory was clearly within reach. Zheng Wuyou finally let out a breath of relief and sat back down where she had been. Painting was best left to Yuan Ling and Ben Yu, who had the artistic talent for it.
She looked at her incomplete arm. She no longer cared whether it would be restored when they got out.
As long as she made it out alive, that was all that mattered.
She rested her head against the old grandmother and closed her eyes, waiting for the final stroke to be completed.
A warm liquid suddenly splashed across her right cheek, which was tilted to one side, accompanied by a sharp whoosh.
She froze. Then she heard Yuan Ling draw in a startled breath.
A bad feeling welled up inside her. Zheng Wuyou abruptly opened her eyes.
She saw Ben Yu, holding the oil-painting brush and about to finish the final stroke, leaning backward in midair. A glowing spear had pierced his abdomen.
The other end of the spear was planted in the ground, passing straight through his body.
Blood was still trickling down the spear, dripping into the earth and blending into it.
Seeing this, Zheng Wuyou didn't care whether she had any strength left. She immediately got up and yanked Yuan Ling back.
In that instant, she noticed the bow raised high in the hands of the Whiteflame Men in the distance.
They had taken the weapons from those fallen Whiteflame Men!
Ben Yu's body hung from the spear, as if he no longer had the strength to fight