Fang Hong naturally knew nothing of the scheming and maneuvering among Zhao Tianchen and the others on the high platform.
On his side, it was now his turn.
"C-30, Fang Hong versus Liu Tian!"
The disciple acting as referee on the arena stage announced loudly.
At the sound of Fang Hong's name, all the disciples around Arena Number Thirty immediately turned to look.
During this time, Fang Hong's name had spread far and wide throughout the Star River Sect.
But aside from the disciples of the Formation Hall who had seen Fang Hong before, everyone else had only heard his name.
They had heard of him, but never seen him.
Now that they heard Fang Hong's name, they naturally became curious about what he actually looked like.
When he heard the referee call his name, Fang Hong strolled onto the stage.
He wore a dark black robe, his hair tied up with a bamboo hairpin.
He had sword-like brows and starry eyes, with a handsome face. Yet the sharp lines of his jaw stripped away much of his scholarly refinement, adding a trace of cold arrogance.
Tall and straight, lean yet powerful, he merely stood there quietly, carrying the aura of an immovable mountain, of a crouching dragon and coiled tiger.
At the sight of Fang Hong like this, the disciples below the stage who had long been curious about him all had their eyes light up.
"So this is the famed Martial Uncle Fang? He really does carry himself extraordinarily, and he's not bad-looking either."
"What use is being good-looking? A match depends on strength, not on who has the prettier face."
"I think Martial Uncle Fang might be in a rather precarious situation this match."
"I know that Liu Tian he's fighting. He broke through to the Earth