Looking at Wang Hu's corpse, blood still streaming from his neck, Ye Lin fell silent.
He had never expected this foolish kid to protect him with his life.
"These beasts... beasts... beasts!"
Standing beside Ye Lin, White Wind stared at the dead Wang Hu and cursed without end.
He knew every person in the caravan. This kid had been a model filial son, wanting only to earn money to treat his mother's illness.
And now... now he had...
"Awooo!"
The wolves howled again in the distance. The pack surrounding them quietly retreated, eventually vanishing from sight.
Ye Lin merely stared at Wang Hu's body in silence, lost in thought.
"Rest assured. I'll avenge you."
Ye Lin spoke softly, then gently brushed across Wang Hu's face. Wang Hu's wide-open eyes finally closed beneath Ye Lin's hand.
"We travel through the night."
After burying Wang Hu's body, Ye Lin spoke in a low voice.
His voice was icy, devoid of even a trace of emotion, as though it had drifted out from Nine Nether Hell.
Even White Wind beside him could not help but shudder.
White Wind immediately gave the order, and the entire caravan began traveling through the night without stopping for even a moment.
For the next three days, the caravan remained on the road, without the slightest chance to rest.
Everyone watched the figure standing at the very front with fear written across their faces.
"Wang Hu's death wasn't your fault. You don't need to torment yourself over it. He... was a good child."
White Lotus stood beside Ye Lin and spoke softly.
Ye Lin merely shook his head.
"I wasn't thinking about him. A windstorm is brewing. If we don't leave now, we'll all be buried beneath a sandstorm. When that happens, none of us will get out."