Battle Against Wanyan Bo

Xiang Yang fixed his gaze on Wanyan Bo, who stood atop the arched stone gate more than five meters high ahead. The constables behind him were limited by their cultivation and could not make out the man's features, but Xiang Yang's eyesight was exceptional. Divine Radiance burst from his eyes, and he saw everything clearly.

This was a man with deep-set eyes and a high nose, a full forehead, and a face covered in a thick beard. Every strand stood erect like a steel needle. His hair was short and curled, a pale green that made the top of his head look lushly verdant. Whether it was natural or acquired, it was enough to make one's heart tighten.

Though his exact age could not be discerned, a red cord hung around his neck, and he wore a short vest made of animal hide that exposed solid, bulging muscles. His appearance was unquestionably in Great Zhou's punk style.

"Who are you?

There should not be any Xiantian Experts in Shang Commandery's Divine Constable Gate. Yet you are willing to guard a dungeon. Looks like you are another running dog of Great Zhou. You deserve to die."

Wanyan Bo's voice was deep and muffled, his throat incredibly rough. His eyes still held surprise at Xiang Yang's earthshaking roar from moments ago, but the corners of his mouth split apart in a grin brimming with killing intent.

He had been surprised that the Divine Constable Gate still had a Xiantian Expert holding the fort, but surprise was not fear. That move alone was not enough to make him wary.

That single declaration—deserve to die—seemed to rise from the depths of his heart and spray from his throat. The temperature nearby dropped sharply, sending chills down one's spine. What terrifying killing intent.

Xiang Yang's