"I'll give you a big pineapple!"
Yu Lingdi suddenly flew into a rage. With a flick of his hand, he whipped up a curtain of rain that filled the sky and, before anyone could react, blew the masked man's head apart on the spot.
Bang!
Amid the torrential rain, an explosion rang out.
Everyone present was instantly dumbfounded.
Storyteller had been staring at Haitang'er with a broad smile, but his expression froze outright...
Cen Qiaofu tightened his grip on the little axe in his hand. That single blow left his limbs stiff and his gaze heavy...
Even Haitang'er, who had arrived late, failed to make it in time to save him. She could only watch as her own First Seat's head was blown apart before outsiders...
"This?"
Xu Xiaoshou kept watch in every direction.
He had long known just how great the Eighth Sword Immortal's personal charisma was.
Yet for some inexplicable reason, seeing the masked man's head get blown apart and the many Saint Slave big shots change expression in that instant still made his heart pound wildly.
This, this, this...
That was way too bold, wasn't it? Yu Lingdi, how did you dare?! Xu Xiaoshou recalled what the masked man had said back in White Cavern.
No surprise, Yu Lingdi's father's generation should have belonged to the same era as Ba Zunan—and had been utterly crushed by him.
But even so, he had attacked the moment he decided to, and directly blown the other man's head apart.
Even if the two sides bore a hatred that could not exist beneath the same sky.
They had still been able to hold themselves back earlier and converse with pleasant faces.
How had things suddenly...
"Young man, you've walked yourself into a dead end!"
Xu Xiaoshou instinctively retreated several steps, yielding