24. Martial World Duel

Before Yimo could say anything, Yun Yi was already fired up. "Let's hurry over and see!"

He dismounted, handed the reins to Mo, and ran over.

Seeing this, Zhenling asked, "Sakamoto, should we go take a look?"

Watching Yun Yi run off, Yimo couldn't help smiling. "Ah, whether in ancient or modern times, humans just can't shake the bad habit of loving a spectacle!"

"Come on. I can't resist the temptation either. Let's go see!"

Seeing that Mo didn't seem interested, Yimo had Zhenling park the carriage by the roadside for now and asked Mo to keep an eye on it.

After spending the past few days together, Mo and Yimo hadn't talked much, but their relationship had improved quite a bit.

Mo nodded and didn't refuse.

Yimo led Zhenling into the crowd. Yun Yi had even saved a decent spot for him.

It was early morning, and the rising sun bathed the martial artists on either side of the city gate, creating quite a picturesque scene.

The person on the left wore black cloth clothes and black knuckle dusters with several metal pieces attached. His skin was dark, and he stood in a fighting stance, a black headband fluttering behind his head.

The person on the right wore blue robes and a douli. He stood with his arms crossed, an ancient-looking long sword tucked against his chest. It didn't look like an ordinary weapon.

His head was slightly lowered, so his features couldn't be made out, but he certainly had the air of a master!

Yimo looked at the two men and smiled. "They look a bit like those people I've seen on TV."

As the crowd below cheered, a burly man standing beside Yimo, nearly 1.9 meters tall, shouted, "It's Black Fist Merck and Lu Qingfeng of the