"You little thief, how dare you!"
Old General Jiang's provocation of Qian Yong caught the eye of a warlord hurrying over. Rage flared in his heart, and he let out a thunderous shout. The shockwave burst outward, sending flying sand and rolling stones scattering everywhere. Old General Jiang couldn't even be bothered to lift an eyelid; he merely gave a soft snort.
Ignoring the warning, the warlord gripped his sword in both hands and charged.
Qian Yong stood where he was, his expression indifferent.
It wasn't that he was confident he could slay Old General Jiang with a single sword strike. In fact, judging by the aura Old General Jiang gave off, Qian Yong was slightly weaker than him, and his own aura was not nearly as sharp. He would be at a disadvantage in a real fight. The only reason he dared stand there so calmly was that he knew his own position very well: someone else would charge into battle for him.
Old General Jiang didn't know Qian Yong's identity, but from his aura, he could tell the man was no ordinary person—he was certainly someone of importance under Qian Yong. The heads of men like him were precious. Old General Jiang was already thinking about whose head he would take next. Even if he couldn't cut down the man before him, badly wounding him would still serve as a warning to Qian Yong about his strength.
He bellowed, "Come die!"
His martial aura blazed like a crimson sun descending upon the earth, scorching and dazzling.
Boom!
As expected, the arriving warlord blocked the strike head-on. He poured all his strength into it and forced the charging Old General Jiang back several steps. Once Old General Jiang had steadied himself, he looked up and examined his opponent, narrowing