"Bèi'értiè is done for!"
As everyone expected, Bèi'értiè could no longer dodge.
He could only watch helplessly as the sharp long handle, like a spearhead, pierced into his chest.
"This!"
Bèi'értiè looked down in disbelief, his hands tightly covering the wound, unable to stop the flow of blood.
Ma Liang stepped forward, pulled out the axe, and fresh red blood spouted profusely from the wound, soaking the thick armor...
Puff!
With a muffled sound, the tall and burly Bèi'értiè, tough as a tower, no longer had the strength to fight and could only watch as he was thrown off his horse.
"Good! Good! Good!"
"Complete victory!"
"Well done!"
Seeing Ma Liang's triumphant advance, whether it was Li Jing, Nezha, or the soldiers, they all couldn't help but cheer.
The atmosphere was completely different on the side of Great Shang, much more subdued with Ghost Country.
