WHOOSH~
Yuan Ying had already closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.
He had just experienced the power of this Mo Mountain Tribe member firsthand.
It was no less than that of the Bone Marrow Martial Artists he had seen before.
Now that his defense was broken, a single blow would leave him dead or crippled. And at a time like this, any injury was a death sentence.
The outcome wouldn't change; it was just a matter of dying sooner or later.
But just then, he heard a bloodcurdling scream.
An arrow was embedded in the man's arm—an arm thicker than Yuan Ying's thigh—its feathered tail still quivering relentlessly.
"ROAR~"
Then, Yuan Ying saw the mountain man violently fling him away.
The man immediately charged toward the side of the execution grounds, where a young man was already drawing his bow once more.
'It didn't go clean through. The Five-Stone Bow is still a bit too weak, as I thought.'
