That saber strike frightened Feng He into a cold sweat. Had he not kept some of his strength hidden, that strike would probably have taken his old life.
"Ah?" Just as Feng He dodged the strike, his heart suddenly lurched.
He discovered that Huo Lian had actually appeared before him, slashing at him again.
Feng He had no time to react and instinctively raised his hand to block.
But halfway through raising it, he realized that his right hand was flesh and blood.
With a scream, Feng He lost his right arm to Huo Lian's saber.
After severing Feng He's right arm, Huo Lian planted a kick in his chest.
Feng He's chest caved in, the sound of his ribs snapping clearly audible.
"I thought we'd come away empty-handed. Looks like we caught one after all." Fan Zhuolang's voice rang out behind Huo Lian.
They had caught up from behind as well.
Since Huo Lian had given chase, they could only follow.
After all, the Demon Hall's people had strength in numbers. If anything happened to Huo Lian, no one on their side would be able to deal with Kui Yong.
Lying on the ground, Feng He spat out several mouthfuls of black blood. He struggled to get up, but failed after several attempts.
His right arm had been severed, and that kick to his chest had nearly killed him outright.
"Huo Lian, why aren't you killing him?" Xuanyuan Jade Butterfly asked.
Feng He had thrown in his lot with the Demon Hall. How could she spare him?
"Spare me! I was only trying to appease Kui Yong just now. I wasn't truly siding with the Demon Hall," Feng He hurriedly said, forcing himself to endure his injuries.
He knew Xuanyuan Jade Butterfly's temperament very well. She really would kill