"Tiny Waters, Setting the Stage"
Ever since Xiao Yifeng died, Qin Zhao had never let this War Halberd leave his side.
Whether he was making a move in a fight or using the halberd shaft to stab someone.
"Damn it, I have to be glorious at least once."
He looked at the scar-covered War Halberd, his gaze razor-sharp.
"Brother Xiao dared to use the Martial King Eighth Stage to fight a Half-Saint to the death. I'm a Martial Venerable facing a Martial Emperor—what the hell is there to fear!"
On the other side, a figure slowly stepped out.
Beiye Yituo.
An old-school Martial Emperor from the Baga.
He was five foot three, with an arrogant, savage sneer on his face.
He casually held a Katana longer than he was tall.
Seven scarlet gemstones were embedded in its sheath.
"I heard Master Beiye's sheath gems are spoils from killing seven powerful experts."
"In today's battle without any suspense, Master Beiye actually brought out his treasured blade. That guy has gotten his money's worth!"
Beiye Yituo was immensely pleased by those words.
When his gaze swept over Qin Zhao, the mockery at the corners of his mouth nearly overflowed. "Do you know that the gap between a Martial Emperor and a Martial Venerable is as vast as clouds and mud?"
"Today, this battle stage will be your grave!" A wave of discussion immediately erupted from the stands.
Qin Zhao was simply using an egg to strike a stone—committing suicide!
Faced with Beiye Yituo's provocation and the surrounding chatter, Qin Zhao merely gave a cold smile.
"I slept with your wife!"
"?" Beiye Yituo froze.
"She was very wet. She said yours was tiny, like a pinky finger—useless, garbage!" Qin Zhao said understatedly.
There was not the slightest fear in his pitch-black eyes.