Seeing that the group was about to attack, Que Fu raised his sword to block the castle gate, and shouted loudly to Yan Li, who was still standing in the hall:
"Ah Li, you should run away quickly. I can hold them off for a while longer. If you don't leave now, you'll really miss your chance."
A person's true character is revealed in a life-or-death situation.
Yan Li did not move an inch.
As for the reason, we'll have to ask the dreamer.
She also wondered if she was standing here at this moment because she wanted to die sooner, or because she felt she hadn't had time to hold him back, so she didn't leave and insisted on putting on a show of deep affection with him in this castle.
As he was thinking this, Wen Ze suddenly turned around.
In that instant when their eyes met, Yan Li was almost certain that the person standing before her was not the lord who was to marry the princess, but someone who, like her, had fallen into a dream.
--"Why?"
Yan Li asked a simple question, but Wen Ze frowned slightly, seemingly puzzled by her question.
He quickly turned around again, his tone slightly cold:
"Who gave you the guts to fight and kill on my turf?"
The heavy rain stopped at some point.
Those outside the castle initially thought it was a golden opportunity, but suddenly a thick fog rolled in, and before they could react, the first few people to charge fell to the ground.
At that moment, Que Fu's sword slashed through someone's throat.
To be more precise, before Que Fu could figure out how to attack his own compatriots, the man fell to the ground due to the sudden fog outside the castle, crashing straight into the blade of his sword.
Almost instantly, blood splattered on his face, Que Fu nearly dropped his sword, his eyes widened, and his hand holding the sword began to tremble.
All I could think about was, "He killed someone, he killed someone."
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