"Cough...!"
Amid the ruins, Yang Hao slowly climbed to his feet. At this moment, how could he still possess the bearing of the Black Mist Army's Third Commander? Most of his clothes were torn to shreds, and the ground beneath him was stained red with blood.
His head had probably been split open, blood streaming down as his hair hung loose. With ruins at his back, bloodshot eyes, and a savage aura, he looked like a defeated stray dog—utterly miserable.
"Bastard! I refuse to accept this!"
Yang Hao let out an angry roar and shot toward Xiao Yan once more like a wild beast.
Even at his peak, he had not been Xiao Yan's match. Much less now.
Facing the charging Yang Hao again, Xiao Yan stamped heavily on the ground, and a sharp blast of Dou Qi shot forth.
With a bang, Yang Hao was sent flying once again. He crashed into another building, creating an even wider stretch of rubble. This time, he likely no longer had the strength to charge out again.
This sudden turn of events drew mocking expressions from many people. The Ancient Clan might be powerful, but that was the Ancient Clan—not Yang Hao. Such behavior would only invite ridicule.
"Trash." The girl in the red dress coolly spat out two words. Failure was not shameful; what was shameful was refusing to admit defeat after losing. Such a person was no different from trash.
"You've disgraced the Ancient Clan!" Just as everyone thought the matter would end hastily, a young figure suddenly appeared before the ruins and mercilessly berated Yang Hao, who lay amid the rubble.
"The Black Mist Army's Second Commander, Lin Xiu. I didn't expect him to be here too. Hehe, now there'll be another good show." Seeing the young man, a