From the north, a fierce wind swept in.
Yuwen Dao, Yue Feng, and the other seven people stood at the doorway but could still feel the power of the fierce wind.
The seven of them felt their eyes blur for a moment; nothing seemed to have happened. Yet, when they looked up again towards the roof where Xia Hong was sitting, their expressions changed instantly.
Across from Xia Hong, at some unknown point, a man had appeared.
A middle-aged man.
He was burly, with broad features and an overbearing presence in his eyebrows, dressed in snow-white clothes that sharply contrasted with Xia Hong's silky black attire, holding a dark, yard-long spear.
"Chen Yingyuan, the Great Leader of the Hive Camp, has actually come directly!"
Yue Feng inside the wooden building immediately recognized the identity of the middle-aged man.
No wonder, the resemblance to Chen Yingba was uncanny.
