Clang!
Clang!
...A string of explosive reports rang out as the two men swung their long sabers, knocking aside six Inkfeather Arrows.
But six masses of true origin exploded around them.
The blasts sent their qi and blood surging and made them stagger.
In the blink of an eye, Zhao Feng and Su Qingwan had arrived.
One of the two men wore fitted martial attire, while the other wore a long robe.
Both were in their thirties.
The robed man had prominent cheekbones. At the sight of Zhao Feng, he gave a cold laugh.
"So you're that running dog of the Martial Suppression Bureau. I couldn't find a chance to kill you, and now you've delivered yourself to my doorstep!"
But the next instant, he saw Su Qingwan behind Zhao Feng, and he looked as though he had seen a ghost.
"Su Qingwan, it's you?"
He shrieked and flicked his broad sleeve, releasing a cloud of black vapor. Then he vanished in a flash.
Su Qingwan pointed a delicate finger, sending out a streak of white light that dispersed the black vapor. Then her graceful figure vanished as she gave chase.
The remaining man in martial attire had triangular eyes filled with malice. He looked Zhao Feng up and down, his lips curling into a contemptuous sneer.
"You're Zhao Feng?" His voice was hoarse and unpleasant, like sandpaper scraping stone. "You think you can capture us?"
Zhao Feng did not answer him. Instead, he asked an unrelated question. "What's your plan? Where's your leader?"
The man froze for a moment.
"You don't need to know." A dark sheen rose over his long saber. "You're going to die here today anyway."
The moment he finished speaking, two more black-clad men lunged out of the reeds. Astral qi surged around them; clearly,