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"What? I couldn't hear you! Speak up!" Baili Jue said, flaring his nostrils and glaring. The swordsman's face turned even greener, and he hurriedly shouted again that he admitted defeat.
"What did you say, He Jiujian! We agreed on a gauntlet battle! How dare you admit defeat!?" Changsun Ling flew into a rage, his face as dark and ugly as the bottom of a cooking pot.
But how could He Jiujian dare continue? He pursed his lips toward Baili Zhi and said, "Immortal Elder Changsun, please don't blame Jiujian for refusing to fight. Look at that female sword slave just now—did she leave Immortal Elder Baili with any injuries? She even destroyed a first-grade Dao sword. The one in my hand is still borrowed from you, Immortal Elder. If I accidentally destroy it too, I'll be finished. That would truly mean losing both sword and soldier—not worth it. Besides, how many people are still capable of fighting now? Why don't you temporarily replace your champion and invite someone more capable, Immortal Elder Changsun?"
"You!" Changsun Ling was so furious that smoke seemed to pour from all seven orifices. But He Jiujian wasn't a sword slave; at most, he was a guest retainer of a powerful clan. Showing you respect was one thing, but at a critical moment, he would never risk his life for you. Otherwise, the sword slaves here wouldn't have flourished without end!
He Jiujian had already lost all face, so he immediately returned the first-grade Dao sword to Changsun Ling, then patted his backside and ran off. Changsun Ling could only stand there in a daze. He had previously been crippled by the slave-ban, and his strength was nowhere near its peak. There was no chance he could catch He Jiujian, so he could only grit