The cultivators of the Stomach of the Glutton charged into the Ruins Tavern like wolves and tigers, instantly throwing the place into chaos. Though the desperadoes inside were fierce, most of them dared not speak out when they saw the Stomach of the Glutton's insignia, quickly moving aside.
Li Wuyang hid in the shadows, quietly extending his divine sense and closely watching the commotion within.
"Old bastard! Hand over that black iron fragment you stole from the Ruins Corridor, or you'll be annihilated body and soul!" The minor leader grabbed the old madman, who was still clutching a wine bottle and grinning foolishly, by the collar and roared viciously.
The old madman seemed frightened. Trembling all over, he muttered incoherently, "Iron fragment... shiny... mine... treasure..."
"So it really is on him!" Joy flashed through the minor leader's eyes as he reached into the old madman's tattered robes.
Just then, a sudden change occurred!
A crafty gleam flashed through the seemingly deranged elder's eyes! His withered fingers clamped around the minor leader's wrist like iron pincers, while his other hand shot toward the man's chest like lightning!
Bang!
Caught off guard, the minor leader was sent flying by the palm strike. He crashed through several tables, spraying blood from his mouth. He had clearly suffered severe internal injuries!
"Damn it! This old bastard was pretending to be weak! Get him together—kill him!" The other Stomach of the Glutton cultivators were both shocked and furious. They summoned their magical treasures and swarmed forward.
The old madman moved like a ghost, darting and weaving through the cramped tavern. He looked bedraggled, yet always narrowly evaded their attacks. Whenever he occasionally counterattacked, another cultivator fell. The divine abilities he used were quite strange, carrying an ancient, weathered aura and considerable power.
*This old madman...