Watching Sikong Jing standing high atop the horse's head, everyone present was stunned.
No matter which side they were on, they were dumbfounded. This young man had actually slapped Mo Yang right across the face. Mad—he was completely mad.
Mo Yang had been slapped senseless as well. Clutching his aged face, he suddenly roared, "Brat, you dare slap me? I'll kill you!"
With that, he tried to leap into the air.
But at that moment, Sikong Jing stamped down hard with his foot, violently forcing the warhorse's head downward. The horse's rump instantly reared high, catching Mo Yang off guard and flinging him away.
In an instant, he became a rolling gourd on the ground. Yet Mo Yang was an Earth Realm expert, and he sprang back up at once.
"Spears!"
Sikong Jing spread his hand in midair. The long spear that had been planted in the ground let out a hum and shot swiftly toward him.
At the same time, it slammed heavily into Mo Yang.
Mo Yang had only just leapt up when the spear struck him squarely. He cried out in pain and rolled across the ground again.
Then the long spear became a spinning windmill, whirling ceaselessly through the air.
Sikong Jing turned sharply and caught the spear with perfect precision, then sat back down on the warhorse. Looking at Mo Yang clutching his chest, he said, "Perhaps you've eaten more salt than I've eaten rice, but the people I've killed number a thousand, ten thousand, a million times more than you."
"It doesn't matter if you want to steal my credit. But you abandoned the people of Brocade Sect to their fate—you deserve death!"
Sikong Jing's furious voice rang out as he suddenly shouted, "Officers, heed my command! Kill our way out of the camp