Xia Chuan, gripping the Black Blade, his already indifferent face matched with three vertical blood-red lines between his brows, appeared even more cold and ruthless.
"Lay down your weapons, surrender and live; those who resist will be slain!"
It was certainly impossible for all three hundred people to lay down their weapons and surrender, but the scene of Xia Chuan just having slain Duan Chang still intimidated most of them. No sooner had he spoken, at least thirty to forty people immediately dropped their weapons.
The rest had little thought of resistance, with only a few stronger ones still attempting to flee the camp.
Xia Chuan turned to look at those few, a shadow flickered in his eyes, but he did not give chase, instead leading Liu Yuan and his men to continue clearing the camp of remaining foes.
Soon, the battle was nearing its end.
