At the same time, somewhere within Snow Wolf Valley, Meng Guizang gasped for breath. He clutched a silver spear and used it to prop himself up, barely managing to remain standing. His entire body trembled, and his right arm that held the spear was drenched in blood, the wound so severe that it continued to bleed without pause.0

Standing opposite him was none other than the leader of the bandits!0

The black-clad leader's eyes gleamed with savage delight as he watched Meng Guizang's blood drip onto the snow. His voice was cold as he spoke. "You managed to survive one strike from me. That alone is something you can be proud of."0

Meng Guizang shook violently, cursing his misfortune in his heart. Had he encountered any other enemy, he would have had confidence in escaping, or even...0