Zhou Xin had grown up listening to his mother recount his father's past. He knew that Zhou You had risen to prominence during the great war against the Witch Clan, personally defeating one genius after another—including the current Saint King.
Mu Sigui and the other mixed-blood witches had also crossed paths with Zhou You back then. By seniority, they belonged to his uncles' generation.
At the sight of Zhou Xin, Mu Sigui recalled his past with Zhou You and could not help sighing with emotion.
Though Zhou Daqian had been dead for many years, his influence still endured in the world. A legitimate son of the northern lands had been born a child of the storm, yet come from behind to surpass the rest, rapidly growing into a grandmaster-level existence on equal footing with them.
The nickname Little Martial Saint alone was enough to prove his worth.
"Have you all come to help, or merely to watch?"
Zhou Xin asked with his arms folded.
Mixed-blood witches had sensitive identities. In theory, they could pledge allegiance to the Human Race, but they could also turn to the Witch Clan without the slightest obstacle.
To many Human Race martial artists, mixed-blood witches might not be enemies, but they were certainly not friends. They were dangerous beings who had to be guarded against.
As the leader of the northern resistance, Zhou Xin possessed vision and breadth of mind far beyond the ordinary. He judged that this group had appeared with a purpose, and he was considering whether he could draw this force to his own side.
"Little Martial Saint, we heard that the Witch Clan Saint King intends to eradicate all resistance forces, so we came to lend our aid!"
Mu Sigui said politely. "May I ask where you are headed?"
"Northern Profound