The sudden voice and commotion made everyone's hearts leap into their throats once more.
Following the sound, everyone turned to look behind them, only to see twelve figures appear out of nowhere.
They formed an encirclement, sealing off everyone's path of retreat.
The two at the forefront were Sun Wenzhu, a Golden Pill Cultivator of the Great Zhao Dynasty, and Zong Lu of the Demon Shadow Palace.
Duanmu Liuying stood not far from Sun Wenzhu, her eyes brimming with towering hatred as she stared fixedly at Su Shi'er. That gaze alone sent an inexplicable chill through everyone present.
It was not hard to imagine that she and Su Shi'er shared a hatred as deep as the sea.
Seeing this, Jiang Xueyan, Li Wanji, and the others swiftly exchanged glances. Without a second thought, they quietly moved closer to Su Shi'er's flying boat.
Demonic beasts lay ahead, while powerful enemies blocked their rear.
Twenty-two formidable opponents stood against them. With only nine people on their side, whether they advanced or retreated, there was little hope of survival.
With Su Shi'er's group of four added in, they still numbered only thirteen. But at a time like this, one more person meant one more measure of strength—at the very least, one more sliver of hope.
Everyone present understood this crucial point well enough.
"Brother Su, what should we do now?" Jiang Xueyan asked in a low voice, turning to Su Shi'er.
Li Piaoyu's face was likewise filled with panic. "Th-this... we're doomed!!"
As she spoke, Li Piaoyu's little face turned deathly pale.
The others all wore ashen expressions, their faces incomparably grim.
"There's no other way. At present...," Su Shi'er began in a low voice.
Before he could finish, Yan Dongsheng spoke from the side. "Ten demonic beasts, plus twelve Golden Pill Cultivators.