The remaining twenty or so Linfeng Warriors all attacked simultaneously, moving in unison, drawing their knives and charging toward the followers.
If these were ordinary followers, even with some martial arts skills, they wouldn't withstand the coordinated assault of a military formation for more than a few breaths before being completely wiped out.
In the eyes of the black-armored officer, this young aristocrat, whose status was obviously not low, already seemed like a dead man.
This was the frontline of the battlefield, yet he was foolish enough to travel with a few beautiful women; he deserved to die.
However, Zhao Douan, casually holding a tree branch and poking at the fire beside him, merely lowered his gaze, looking at a pot of bubbling hot water on the stone hearth, and spoke softly, "Leave one alive."
"Understood!"
