บท 255: Refugees

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

Three shrill swishing sounds tore apart the silence of the woods and sounded like long and sharp roars of eagles.

Feng Xing hid in the woods on this side of the river and shot three roaring arrows accurately into the soft and moist soil, right before the foot tips of an elderly man. A few spell symbols of these specially crafted arrows lit up one after another. Along with wisps of black smoke that rose from arrows, a few horrible skulls were formed in the air, letting out scary laughs.

A great yet creepy power spread out from the three arrows, instantly shrouding the entire wood within a radius of a few miles.