He stood supreme among those of his rank, and his cultivation far surpassed his opponent's. This would be a battle without suspense. Even across the ages, few could have matched him.
"The Nine Secrets? You have them too. But they'll belong to me alone. Thanks for bringing me such a prize!" The Overlord's advance had been stopped, yet instead of anger, his face showed only arrogance.
Ye Fan's gaze turned cold. His thoughts raced. The Azure Heaven Tyrant Blood lineage truly was the Sacred Body's sworn enemy; it had every right to claim supremacy among its peers.
In the distance, hearts shook. Ye Fan possessed the Nine Secrets, and from the Overlord's choice of words, he did too. Why else would he say "too"?
Ye Fan's black hair whipped about him. His eyes were sharp, his fighting spirit soaring, without a trace of fear. He pointed the black spear in his hand straight ahead.
"I could kill you even at the same level. I'll give you a chance. Come fight me, and I'll let you die with some dignity." The Overlord's eyes blazed as he looked down on every champion there.
Such domineering arrogance, such wild defiance—only he dared speak this way, as though no hero under heaven was worth his notice.
"I'll take your head and send you on your way," Ye Fan said.
Boom!
The Overlord's might surged skyward. With the conceit of a man who believed himself supreme, he held his blood-red battle spear in one hand, pointed it at Ye Fan, and charged.
The Purple Qilin roared, shattering the heavens beneath its hooves. Though they were only one rider and one mount, they descended like an army of a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers, their killing intent engulfing everything!
"Kill!"
Ye Fan roared and urged the Dragon