"My confidence? Why don't you try me and find out?!"
As Wang Zhao's words fell, he stopped wasting breath. He immediately raised the scythe in his hand and slashed a light blade through the air at Tang Hao.
Tang Hao was startled and tried to dodge sideways, but the gray light blade was simply too fast. In the blink of an eye, it had cut another wound into his left arm.
"Hiss... Don't push me!"
Tang Hao clenched his fists tighter, a flash of violence passing through his eyes.
Without using his Clear Sky Hammer Martial Soul, the strength he could wield was truly limited. Clearly, it would not be easy to fight the Martial Soul Hall Holy Son before him—a man who did not look like a Titled Douluo at all, yet seemed to possess the strength of one.
Damn it... This is utterly infuriating!
Tang Hao thought resentfully.
If Martial Soul Hall had not taken the opportunity to impose that series of unequal treaties while suppressing the Clear Sky Sect back then, how would he be so constrained in every way now?
He really wanted to take out his big black hammer and smash Spirit Hall Branches all across the continent into rubble!!!
Why was Martial Soul Hall so smart—no, that was wrong—so insidious and cunning...
"Push you? Then go ahead and use your Martial Soul."
Seeing Tang Hao grow increasingly anxious, Wang Zhao became even more relaxed. With a mocking curl of his lips, he swung his scythe again, sending another slash toward Tang Hao.
The long-handled scythe in his hand, composed entirely of black and bright silver, with faint golden divine patterns flowing across its shaft, radiated sharpness, domineering majesty, and an indescribable nobility. Naturally, it was his Martial Soul.
His third Martial Soul.
Its name