"To be honest, I indeed had similar thoughts."
Xia Ping answered frankly. He felt he was an honest person and should not hide anything.
Sect Master Zhu Xian and the others were helpless. Saying such things so bluntly—wasn't that clearly asking for a beating and offending people?
"Even having such thoughts is unacceptable. That means you deeply despise us disciples of the Primordial Sacred Land. Want to have a spar?" A group of Primordial Sacred Land disciples glared at Xia Ping with unfriendly expressions.
"That might not be a good idea. What if I injure you? Would your masters come looking to settle the score with me? I heard you have quite formidable backers." Xia Ping spoke hesitantly.
"What did you say? You think a brat like you can injure us? What a joke! Do you really take us Primordial Sacred Land disciples for clay figurines? Do you think we're those three pieces of trash—Feng Xingyu, Zhang Haodang, and Meng Zhenshun?"
At once, the group of Primordial Sacred Land disciples exploded with rage.
In all their years since setting out into the world, they had never heard of someone fearing a fight because he was afraid of injuring them. Just how arrogant did this barbaric wilderness brat intend to be?
Could it be that, after defeating Feng Xingyu, Zhang Haodang, and Meng Zhenshun, and hearing that the Primordial Sacred Land had been violently beaten by Wu Wudi, this bastard thought they were all fakes?!
"Come on, then. Let's spar. If I don't show you what disciples of the Primordial Sacred Land are capable of today, I won't leave." A Primordial Sacred Land disciple glared viciously at Xia Ping. "You don't need to worry about injuring me either. It's merely a spar. So long as no one dies, there's no problem."