In front, more than twenty men were on the ground wailing. They were all wounded. The air was filled with a faint stench of blood. Although they were injured, their wounds were not fatal.
To his surprise, those people on the ground were men in their twenties and thirties. Next to them, an old man in grey was sitting with his feet up on top of two men who were stacked up together on the ground. With an impatient look, he urged, "It took so long to deal with these twenty-odd people. Say, isn't it better to wipe them off directly with the blade? That's more efficient."
"Senior Uncle!" After recovering from his shock, Fan Yixiu came over to him with an excited shout.
Sage Hun Yuan was startled by this greeting and jumped down. He looked at Fan Yixiu, who came striding towards him, up and down. "Who are you? What senior uncle? Don't call people randomly!"
