Three streaks of light tore through the night sky with piercing shrieks, plunging down from above.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Three figures slammed into the ground, surrounding Fang Mo in a triangular formation. The earth cracked, stones flew, and their wild auras pressed down like three mountains crashing upon him at once.
The man on the left was burly, his arms covered in heavy Purple-gold Battle Armor. Sharp claws extended from the tips of his fingers, gleaming coldly in the firelight.
The man on the right was lean, holding a short blade in each hand. His armor clung tightly to his body, its sleek lines flowing like liquid.
The man directly ahead was the tallest. His Purple-gold Battle Armor was covered in scarlet patterns, with vicious-looking ramming horns jutting from his shoulders, elbows, and knees. He held a greatsword, his gaze blazing as he fixed it on Fang Mo.
"Three Level 6 Purple-gold Warriors!"
In the distance, Farrow nearly burst into a crazed laugh at the sight.
"Hahaha! Three War Kings!"
He shoved away the people supporting him and staggered forward a few steps, pointing at Fang Mo as he roared hoarsely:
"Fang Mo! Go on, act tough! Keep acting tough!"
"With three War Kings here, let's see where you can run today!"
His face twisted with excitement, his eyes bloodshot. His voice brimmed with madness and glee; the composure he'd shown before was nowhere to be seen.
Sword King Baron was panting heavily too. His armor was battered, and blood still seeped from wounds all over his body, but when he looked at Fang Mo, there was no longer any fear in his eyes—only the joy of having survived a disaster.
At last, he'd held out. If they hadn't arrived, he would've had no choice but to run along with