"Brother, lend a hand, and you'll definitely get your share of the Apocalypse Rogue's spoils."

From afar, Zhang Xiaoqi shouted out, wielding his martial arts knife as he sprinted across the treetops.

The Long-Armed Black Monkeys were closing in, and on these treetops where footing was tricky, even Zhang Xiaoqi, a Seventh-Stage Martial Artist, had to concede to their speed.

Zhou Zheng loosened his grip, and three iron arrows transformed into meteors, whistling through the air.