Qian Peng climbed to his feet amid the ruins, blood still seeping from the wound on his shoulder.
He was over thirty years old and had spent nearly eight years at the Martial King realm.
And a Martial Ancestor had cut him with a single strike.
"What did you say?"
Qian Peng's voice came out hoarse, as though he hadn't heard clearly.
"B-Rank Rift. I'm going in alone." Lin Feng shifted Mountain Splitter to his other hand. "You don't need to send your advance team. Save those fifty lives, and they can help defend the city later."
Huang Kun came around from behind Qian Peng, his smile gone.
"Kid, you're a Martial Ancestor. Going into a B-Rank Rift is no different from committing suicide. There are Martial King-level Exotic Beasts in there."
"Forget you. Even the two of us together wouldn't dare guarantee we'd come out unharmed."
"I know."
"You know, and you still want to go in?"
"You two are just weak. Enough blabbering." Lin Feng patted the back of Mountain Splitter. "Don't want me getting close? Want me to cut you again?"
Qian Peng's face twitched a few times, and his right hand quietly moved toward his waist.
He was wondering whether to just take down the arrogant Sergeant Major right there on the city wall.
But the aftershock of that strike still lingered in his shoulder.
That power was no ordinary Martial Ancestor's work.
Huang Kun leaned close to Qian Peng's ear and spoke in a very low voice.
"Let him go."
Qian Peng turned his head.
Huang Kun barely moved his lips. Only the two of them could hear him.
"He's going into a B-Rank Rift to get himself killed. Perfect. We won't have him in the defense line causing trouble. If he dies in the