Qin Shaofeng Strikes

At that moment, watching the figures behind them, Jun Shaoyang and the others were overcome by despair.

From behind, those figures kept sending up bursts of laughter and roars.

"Hahaha! We're on their heels—we're about to catch them!"

"Damn, that young hall master of Nine Cloud Hall sure can run like a damn dog!"

"Heh, this chase is a blast. I wonder how many of them they'll leave behind this time?"

"Ha! I bet it'll be that last one, the Saint King, right?"

"..."

The waves of laughter made Jun Shaoyang and the others' faces darken, their hearts blazing with boundless fury.

But no matter how furious they were, Jun Shaoyang and the others knew anger would do them no good.

The people hunting them were a whole squad of Saint Kings.

And there were more than ten of them. All Jun Shaoyang and his companions could do was run.

But their pursuers were playing with them like cats toying with mice, stopping and starting along the way as they picked them off one by one. Now only seven remained.

Even so, the few people beside Jun Shaoyang still hadn't given up.

Seeing that their pursuers were about to catch up again, the middle-aged man beside Jun Shaoyang, a Saint King, suddenly said in a low voice, "Shaoyang, I'll hold them off. Use this chance to get as far away as you can!"

"Uncle Lin—!"

The Saint King had barely finished speaking when Jun Shaoyang's face changed sharply. But before he could say anything, Uncle Lin gently shook his head, his expression utterly resolute. "Don't say another word, Shaoyang. The most important thing now is to get you out of here safely. Otherwise, our Nine Cloud Hall will—no..."

He broke off sharply, a flash of grief and indignation crossing Uncle