A short while later, the bandits inside the stronghold had been more or less dealt with.
Yang Jing's gaze fell upon the three wooden huts where the hostages were being held.
The doorways of the huts were now empty; the guards had long since vanished without a trace.
He remembered the hostages he had seen huddled in the corners through a crack in the wall, and his heart stirred. He quickened his pace and rushed toward the huts.
BANG!
Yang Jing kicked open the door to the first wooden hut.
The dozen or so hostages inside screamed and scrambled into the corners, staring at him in terror, their eyes filled with fear.
After days of torment by the Flying Horse Thieves, many of them were already on the verge of collapse.
"Don't be afraid. I'm here to rescue you."
Yang Jing softened his tone, trying to make his voice sound as gentle as possible.
