"Oh! brother! man! You saved me again. Thank you." Jackson looked at Chen Mo gratefully as he ran, thanking him nonstop.
Chen Mo said nothing. He did not even have time to answer the fellow. Instead, he reached down, pulled the long saber from the ground again, slung it over his shoulder, and started running.
"Hey! Man! Why are you carrying that saber? Isn't that thing heavy? You're even running with it?" Jackson looked utterly baffled as he watched Chen Mo run with the saber, deeply worried that something had gone wrong with his companion's head.
Thinking it over, though, his companion had not hit his head anywhere. So why was he doing something so baffling?
"Shut up! Keep up!"
Sometimes, Chen Mo truly wanted to slash the chatterbox beside him with the saber in his hand. Otherwise, he would be doing the fellow's incessant babbling an injustice.
Hearing the severity in Chen Mo's voice, Jackson immediately shut his mouth. In truth, he talked so much because he was nervous and used talking to ease his emotions. There was no one else around but Chen Mo, so Chen Mo had become his trash can.
Of course, if Chen Mo knew he had become Jackson's trash can, he would definitely destroy the fellow on humanitarian grounds!
After reaching the back of a stone pillar and taking cover with Jackson, Chen Mo examined the long saber in his hand again.
It had endured a thousand years, yet the blade still seemed to exude a bloodthirsty aura that made people instinctively afraid to look directly at it. Fortunately, Chen Mo was no ordinary person, so he naturally was neither afraid nor unwilling to meet its gaze.
If an ordinary person held this saber, he would definitely find it rather heavy. It was nearly