The longsword shifted slightly from its path toward his brow. Luo Wen retracted his weapon and landed steadily beside Ye Qianning.
Before the Left General could even catch his breath, two more waves of killing intent assailed him from the left and right. He stumbled back in a panic.
A swift gust of wind passed. The Left General froze, not daring to move an inch.
Two longswords were pressed against his temples, one on each side. The slightest movement would bring him into contact with their cold, sharp tips.
Ying Ge and Ying Yuan's killing intent was even more intense than Luo Wen's—a bone-chilling murderousness.
Cold sweat dripped down the Left General's forehead. "How dare you..."
Just as he was about to speak, a sharp, icy pain shot through his temples, scaring him into silence.
Ye Qianning waved her hand dismissively.
Ying Ge and Ying Yuan retracted their longswords. "Young Miss."
The Left General's face was ashen, his heart still pounding with fear.
