"Slap! Slap! Slap!"
Following a dozen consecutive slaps, Zhao Kuo's face was already swollen like a pig's head, a streak of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and his meticulously trimmed beard was left in a complete mess.
The Golden-Armored Guards he had brought with them were just about to make a move when they were forced to stand down by the archers who suddenly appeared all around them.
Chapter 391