Zhao Feichen said in a low voice:
"The item being refined in that furnace is a top-tier prop. Even for you, the success rate is less than thirty percent, right? I'm taking this thing. Even if he's an official deacon, I'll pretend I don't know."
"As long as you've thought it through." Lian Sanyue smiled, rose languidly to her feet, and announced to the crowd:
"In my capacity as witness and guarantor, I will draw up a contract. Whoever violates it will be dealt with personally by me."
Once both sides nodded, she pulled an ancient yellowed parchment scroll from her Inventory, snapped it open, and said:
"Contract One: Skills and items above Level 6, including Level 6, may not be used."
"Contract Two: Surrender is forbidden. By arena rules, the fight must end in death."
"Contract Three: No seeking aid from unrelated people outside the arena."
With every clause she spoke, a rule appeared on the parchment. The writing was twisted like tadpoles, making it impossible to tell what language it belonged to.
After briefly laying out the three terms, she looked at Zhang Yuanqing and the middle-aged swordsman. "Come over and sign it. Just leave a fingerprint."
The middle-aged swordsman strode forward and pressed his thumb beneath the contract. Then he looked back at Zhang Yuanqing coldly.
Zhang Yuanqing returned and stopped before Lian Sanyue. In a low voice, he said, "Since you're his aunt, you should tell him who I am."
He did not press his fingerprint, making one last attempt.
It was not convenient for him to reveal his own identity. All kinds of people were gathered here, including Evil Profession members.
If word of his presence here reached a Saint Realm expert—or even a Master—from an evil organization, it would create a great deal of