Dai Hao's pupils contracted sharply. His mind reeled, and it felt as though his throat had been tightly blocked. A thousand words clogged his chest, yet he couldn't utter a single one.
Ahead, Ju Zi remained standing.
The Soul Tool sword was still buried deep in Dai Hao's shoulder, its blade steadily soaking up blood.
She didn't pull it out or press her attack. She merely gazed quietly at the enemy who had ruined her life, her eyes cold and indifferent.
"Dai Hao."
Ju Zi's cool voice rang out, piercing the smoke that filled the sky.
"Do you still remember the battle in the Sunset Mountain Range twenty years ago?"
Dai Hao's mind reeled again as memories of bloodshed surged wildly through him.
In that battle, he had slain countless enemies and won great military honors.
But amid that chaotic fighting, he had killed more than enemy soldiers. He had also slaughtered countless members of the opposing army's support staff.
But what grudge did this person before him hold against him? He couldn't remember.
"You killed my father with your own hands." Ju Zi's tone was calm, revealing no joy or anger, yet every word was steeped in blood and tears. "I was only a few years old that year. I didn't understand anything. You killed the only family I had."
She lowered her eyes slightly, the corner of her mouth lifting in a bitter, rueful smile.
"I've waited twenty years for this day."
Huo Yuhao gripped the White Tiger Dagger tightly, his fingertips turning faintly white as hatred surged in his eyes.
He had waited twenty years, too.
Ever since the day his mother passed away, he had longed day and night to grow up, to become stronger, and to one day stand before this man openly and honorably,