"What's going on?"
Wu Quan and the others had been staying in their cells, quietly waiting for Xia Ping's group to attack. They rested and recuperated, tending to their injuries and recovering some of their combat strength.
Though they did not hold much hope, they still harbored a faint expectation—that Xia Ping might suddenly find his conscience and pull them out of this sea of suffering.
But after waiting for most of the night without a single sign of movement, their hearts had sunk lower and lower. Now, seeing a group of furious aliens rushing over, they immediately knew something was terribly wrong.
That bastard Xia must have done something to make these aliens so enraged.
"Kill them all."
The moment they arrived, the Drought Demon Clan elder gave the order, murderously.
"Yes, Elder!"
Quite a few axe-wielding guards stepped forward, cold glints flashing in their eyes as they prepared to chop off the humans' heads.
"Wait!"
Wu Quan panicked at once. Driven by the instinct to survive, he could not help shouting, "Sir, may I ask what exactly happened? Why are you killing us? At least give us a reason!"
"Even if we die, we want to die knowing why. We don't want to become ghosts who died unjustly."
His heart was blazing with anxiety as he tried to stop the aliens from acting.
"Why kill you?"
The Drought Demon Clan elder sneered. "Your good friend certainly had a fine plan. He used you as bait, fooled us like idiots, and struck in the east while attacking in the west."
"Rather than coming to save you, he ran off to our city, broke into the holy land, and seized the sacred fruit."
"Now that brat is beyond any threat, you people are useless. If we don't kill you, should