The man's face was hidden beneath a black robe, making his features impossible to see.
He came from the depths of the Dragon Lair, his bearing calm and composed, free and unrestrained. He seemed both strange and mysterious, yet also refreshing and exhilarating.
He ignored the ill-intentioned, tiger-like stares of those people, and paid even less heed to their vicious faces and ulterior motives.
He walked toward them of his own accord, like the master of the Dragon Lair coming out to welcome guests who had traveled from afar. After waiting ten thousand years, they had finally met.
Following close behind him were Wen Ruo Ruo, Qin Han, and Tu Xin. The three of them followed the black-robed man's footsteps in lockstep, like his devout followers, lending him an even more solemn and majestic, almost religious air.
Boom—
The black-robed man's right foot came down on a piece of green jade, and the fine-quality stone immediately exploded into countless fragments.
He lowered his head and glanced at it, then gently shook his head. "What a pity."
"What sort of people are you?" someone shouted from within the crowd.
"And what sort of people are you?" Wen Ruo Ruo shot back without the slightest weakness.
She knew what these people were. Their clothes and manner made that obvious.
But they had clearly only provoked the Changbai Sword Sect. Why had so many sects and forces suddenly appeared?
Could it really be as Senior Brother Wu Shanji had said—that these people had all come to slay the dragon? Had they already decided that Young Master Xiangma was the evil dragon that had risen from the dead in Wind City and escaped into the outside world?
"Who are we? Hahaha, I'm afraid you'll be scared witless if I tell you—"
"Only nameless nobodies