Chen Yang raised an eyebrow, what a violent aura.
Without saying a word, straight to shooting an arrow?
When Chen Yang looked up, the person who had shot the arrow was already riding horseback galloping towards him.
A dozen people followed behind her.
Dressed in simple clothes, her facial features were delicate, her figure was exceptionally tall and slim, her hair was tied into a ponytail that bounced up and down with the rhythm of the horse's galloping.
She looked around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, holding a large bow forged from fine steel, with a quiver hanging at her waist, and most astonishingly, she carried an enormous broad sword on her back.
The width of the sword exceeded twenty centimeters, and its length matched her own height entirely.
Her entire presence exuded a tough and fierce aura.
"This woman is armed to the teeth, too terrifying," Yang Hu couldn't help but mutter, "Such a woman, afraid she'll never marry in her life."
