Ah!
With a scream, Li Kuangdao shot toward the center of the camp, swift as the wind.
There, he saw that someone had taken over his tent. Several men in white armor stood side by side.
Not far from them, a man covered in blood, reduced almost to a heap of mush, was howling loudly.
But his breath was growing weaker, and his cries were fading.
"Are you the leader of the Kuangdao Association?"
At that moment, a man heard the commotion and walked out of the tent.
He was tall, with a hooked nose and the cold, watchful gaze of a hawk.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jian Twelve. I've come at the Sword Sect's order to investigate the outbreak of the Black Tide in the wasteland."
"We arrived at Dark Moon Lake and happened upon your camp, so we've come to stay for a while. I trust the leader of the Kuangdao Association has no objections?"
He spoke unhurriedly, but his tone was utterly indifferent, as if Li Kuangdao didn't matter to him at all. He made it sound like a discussion, but the outcome was already set in stone.
Li Kuangdao knew as much. His expression didn't change. He merely bowed slightly and said respectfully,
"It is truly my good fortune that you've taken a liking to my camp. I only hope you won't find the conditions too poor."
He paused, then changed his tone and pointed at Zhou Yunsong, who lay on the ground, barely breathing.
"May I ask what my young brother did to offend you?"
"Him..." Beside Jian Twelve, a short, stocky man said in a deep, rumbling voice, "This kid was rather ungrateful. I just wanted to rest in his tent for a while and asked him to make room.