The reason everyone's hearts sank was that, as they involuntarily watched this Soul Ancestor's expression, they discovered that his face was growing increasingly grim.
As the young girl wept, the Soul Ancestor's expression darkened like the sky before a storm.
Dark clouds blanketed the sky, and the air was so oppressive it felt suffocating. There was not even the faintest breeze.
Yet the bandits desperately hoped that breeze would not rise.
Because once it did, it would be the moment they died without a burial place.
"Th-this, my lord..." Zhang San swallowed, moistening his parched throat. Yet no matter how many times he swallowed, his voice remained hoarse and trembling. "P-please... spare our lives."
Ma Hongjun wore a grim expression, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the bandits before him.
For him, given enough time, killing these people would be as easy as turning over his hand. But right now, he had to consider how to deal with their desperate counterattack before death.
Ma Hongjun was the Shrek Team's offensive powerhouse, second only to Zhang Yang in explosive power. But one person's strength was ultimately limited. If he acted immediately, even Zhang Yang and Tang San would not be able to save everyone from the bandits' blades.
Every unarmed hostage had a bandit holding a steel saber beside them. Once he attacked the bandits and drove them into a corner, they would surely turn their weapons on the hostages beside them.
They were about to die anyway. Dragging someone down with them was not a loss, no matter how one looked at it.
For these ruthless bandits, doing so carried no psychological burden at all.
Thus, Ma Hongjun did not curse Zhang San out with something as hot-blooded as, "You robbed this young master and still think you can