"Are you Fang Han?"
Yang An paced back to where he had been, planted one foot on Ying Xiantian, then turned his eyes and gave Fang Han an indifferent glance.
"Fang Han pays his respects to the Marquis."
Fang Han's heart tightened as he cupped his hands in greeting.
Yang An nodded. "I've heard your name. You killed nearly all the Taiyi Gate disciples who fled, and even took Yan Shuiyi for yourself? Not bad. You suit my tastes."
"You misunderstand, Marquis..."
Fang Han's expression immediately became a little strained.
This Marquis of Victory made him sound like some bandit, killing people and abducting wives to his mountain stronghold.
"In this imperial capital, no one can harm you!"
Yang An hauled up Ying Xiantian and his son, both wearing bitter, venomous expressions, then pointed at Fang Han.
"I said so!"
"...Thank you, Marquis."
Fang Han's mouth twitched. He did not know what expression to make.
"No need!"
Yang An waved his hand and, feeling refreshed, carried Ying Xiantian and his son away.
Suddenly, Yang An's body stiffened. His wrist trembled, and his palm abruptly lost its strength. Ying Xiantian and his son fell from his hand to the ground, yet he did not even notice.
"G-Grand Tutor..."
Yang An's expression shifted several times before he bowed deeply to the ground.
Fang Han and the others were all shaken. Raising their eyes, they saw a Lofty Figure walking toward them from beyond the city gates.
That figure was calm and composed, yet with every step, everyone felt an indescribably vast and majestic aura, as though the vault of heaven itself were pressing down upon them and filling their minds.
Only those deep, rhythmic footsteps beat within their hearts like drumbeats, seeming to synchronize with everyone's heartbeat.
Grand Tutor?
Everyone froze for