"You're saying I'm not qualified to speak to you now? In terms of status, in terms of standing, a homeless cur like you isn't qualified to speak to me."
"Besides, cutting down one homeless cur like you—this one alone is more than enough."
Fang Heng flicked his sleeve and said coldly, utterly fearless, his eyes instead brimming with fighting spirit.
He wished this fellow would make the first move. Then, he would have an absolutely justifiable reason to kill him.
At this moment, no matter how good Mad Blade's temperament was, he could no longer hold himself back.
This fellow's tongue was simply too venomous. Homeless cur this, homeless cur that—he was reaching the limits of his patience.
After all, failing to even enter the Emperor Road that time was the pain of his entire life. Now that scar was being ripped open again and again, salt rubbed into it over and over—who could remain unangered?
"What? Nothing to say? Admitting that you're a homeless cur now? Heh. The longer time passes, the stronger the suppression becomes. Even the Heavenly Dao does not welcome you. What did you come out for?"
"Never mind the stowaways for now—do you losers who failed to contend for the Emperor Road deserve to come to our present world? Losing battle after battle is one thing, but you don't even have the slightest sense of responsibility."
"With such talent, what difference does it make if you grovel your way into the next era? A loser will always be a loser, a loser for life. You will be nailed to the pillar of shame."
"If I were you, would I still shamelessly cling to life until the next era? I'd have found a block of tofu to smash my head into long ago."
"You really have