Picking a Fight

Revealing his aura would expose his location, so Bai Yang immediately set about making preparations. It didn't take long, and the people who had heard the news were already on their way.

The first to arrive was a burly middle-aged man. Bai Yang had never seen him before.

The man's eyes were cold, and it seemed that mountains of corpses and seas of blood churned within them. He was clearly a ruthless character; who knew how many people's blood stained his hands?

He wore a pitch-black suit of armor, its design especially savage. Sharp, icy spikes jutted from every joint, and dark gleams shimmered across its surface. Anyone who saw it would praise it as a fine suit of armor.

He also gripped a black spear a zhang long, its tip crimson as if stained with blood. He hadn't come alone: beneath him was a fine steed, three meters tall, its body covered in black scales and a horn a foot long jutting from its head. This extraordinary horse stood in midair, its aura terrifying—no weaker than that of a Martial Path cultivator in the Human King Realm.

The armor, spear, and fine steed all looked ordinary aside from their unusual appearance, yet together they exerted an immense pressure without even trying.

The truth was that the more powerful something was, the more ordinary it looked at first glance. Once it revealed its edge, the spectacle was bound to shake the heavens and earth!

Judging by his attire, the man was undoubtedly a soldier. He might be famous in some field, but Bai Yang didn't know him. He had never even heard of him.

The man stopped a hundred li from Bai Yang. His gaze pierced the void and fixed on him. His expression darkened as he called out, "Stop!"