"Rubbish! I... I am the Wisdom King!"
The aged Wisdom King pointed fiercely at his own face and roared, his face flushing red and veins bulging. But Huang Zhao, hiding in the corner, believed he was trying desperately to conceal fear with rage. Huang Zhao was extraordinarily sensitive to fear at this moment. That feeling could not be wrong.
The young monk was handsome—very handsome. Yes, as a Golden-Winged Great Peng with normal tastes, Huang Zhao thought he truly looked good. His pale monk's robes accentuated his elegant bearing. Even without golden robes or Golden Ornaments, he still seemed transcendent, like one of the gods from legend.
"You are, and yet you are not." His voice remained calm and magnetic.
The aged Wisdom King went mad. The old man, possessing Great Ascension Stage cultivation, charged at the young monk with a monk's staff in hand...
Suddenly, the old Wisdom King rushing forward froze in midair. He did not move at all, like a statue. Only the sweat dripping endlessly from his face showed how desperately he struggled to break free, yet could not. His eyes were filled with terror and unease. This was very abnormal...
The young monk spoke, smiling with gentle kindness.
"You did very poorly. You failed. I am disappointed."
The aged Wisdom King suspended in the air no longer had his former bluster masking inner weakness. Huang Zhao felt that he was drenched in sweat like a pitiful drowned dog, his lips trembling as he struggled to speak.
"Spare... my life..."
"Your life is not yours. Your life belongs to the Wisdom King, and I am the true Wisdom King. No... I am not either."
He reached out and tapped the old Wisdom King once. The aged body immediately withered and shriveled at incredible speed, becoming a