"Little Martial Saint Zhou Xin."
A Great Witch Chief blocked his path and declared his identity. "Do you know me, Mo Guli?"
Once that name was spoken, the surrounding martial artists looked at one another, clearly having no idea who he was.
But Zhou Xin obviously knew. "Oh, so it's you—the defeated subordinate of Hall Master Qi."
The Great Witch Chief's face flushed red at those words. This was a stain from his dark past, one that could never be scrubbed away.
Though he had later learned shame and fought bravely, then obtained another path and advanced by leaps and bounds to become a Great Witch Chief, his crushing defeat at the hands of Zhou You's disciple was something he could never erase.
What was more, the Saint King had ordered that Da Qian Martial Arts School was not to be troubled, cutting off his means of taking revenge through slaughter and family annihilation.
Mo Guli had been stifling his resentment for far too long. At last, he had found a chance to take his knife to Zhou You's son.
"Sharp-tongued brat, you're courting death. Today, I'll send you to see your father."
It had merely been an offhand taunt before the fight, yet the wind carried it into the distance, where several people heard it and smiled with unfathomable meaning at the corners of their mouths.
Those people were Lu Zhigang, Liu Jingguo, and Xiaoyaozi...
The man's father had arrived long ago. There was no need for you to send him anywhere for father and son to meet. You, on the other hand, would soon be meeting the ancestors of the witch clan.
When witchfolk fought, they always concentrated superior forces to outnumber the few. After Mo Guli appeared, the Great Witch Chiefs nearby also closed in from every