Screech!
Ximen Dong forcibly halted his charge. The violent turbulence of Spiritual Power within his body turned his face crimson, even thickening his neck as he roared, "What are you trying to do now?!"
"Don't rush. I need to loosen up first!" Zhou Heng did not care whether Ximen Dong agreed or not, casually kicking out a leg and stretching an arm. Yet his movements were agonizingly slow, as though he were an old man of seventy or eighty...
"Hahaha!" The stands immediately erupted in laughter. Jiang Zishuang especially had a terribly low laughing threshold; tears were already streaming down her face.
Though Ximen Dong hated Zhou Heng more and more, if he struck down an opponent who was still "preparing" now, such a victory would certainly fail to convince anyone!
That was it—this was Zhou Heng's scheme!
This fellow knew he had suffered severe injuries and could not possibly be his match, so he deliberately used such petty tricks to provoke him into losing his head. Then, even if he defeated this brat, Zhou Heng could claim he had lost because of Ximen Dong's despicable behavior and demand a rematch!
Hmph, hmph, hmph. This brat really was vile!
Convinced that he had seen through Zhou Heng's plot, Ximen Dong revealed a cold smile. Fine, you want to play? Then I'll play with you—play you to death! With that thought, he was no longer in a hurry. Folding his arms over his chest, he waited for Zhou Heng.
He was not in a hurry, but everyone else was! What was wrong with these two? Weren't they supposed to duel? How had it turned into bickering and a comedy act?
Yet as he watched Zhou Heng move at a snail's pace, Ximen Dong knew perfectly well that the other man was