Ke Meng did not want to run into them. After all, their hatred stemmed from his accidentally killing a group of players.
If he chased people down and attacked them, things would become troublesome. Taking out the small fry might draw out even larger guild groups.
But if someone insisted on getting in his face and killing him, Ke Meng certainly would not let them have their way. He would fight back.
Over level seven hundred. Damage at that level can already hurt me. I need to be careful. Ke Meng hesitated, feeling that he should lie low.
If the only person hunting him were a level 759 Necromancer, Ke Meng would dare to face him in a one-on-one showdown like a real man.
But a whole group of players over level seven hundred would be a little too much for him. With his resistance, he still could not ignore the concentrated fire of three or four hundred high-level players.
They were three kilometers away, and the terrain between them was not entirely flat, so Ke Meng deliberately slowed his mount.
Running too fast would make a tremendous noise. Fortunately, it had only just started moving and had not reached an outrageous speed yet, so it had not alerted the player team over there.
His mount slowed down and raced through the forest, the scenery flying backward along the way.
Ke Meng's spiritual perception swept outward again and again, like a cultivator's spiritual sense, feeding everything within several kilometers into his mind.
These players' spiritual perception was not particularly strong, so they could not detect anyone spying on them.
There are five large teams in total, and they're all here to kill me. Ke Meng's ears twitched as he heard more voices, while scenes unfolding elsewhere flashed before his eyes