Yang Wei gritted his teeth and glared at Xiao Yun. His seven Spirit Sacrifices had been effortlessly slain by his opponent, and now he was at the end of his rope. What other tricks did he have left?
But he was deeply unwilling to accept it. How could a declining Chaos Holy Land possibly have someone so formidable?
The Desolate Ancient Sacred Land was the second-ranked sacred land. In Yang Wei's eyes, from beginning to end, they had only ever regarded the people of the Primordial Sacred Land and the Tyrant Heaven Sacred Land as rivals.
But who could have known that the Chaos Holy Land, silent for so many years, would suddenly produce a freak like Xiao Yun?
Faced with the imposing Xiao Yun, Yang Wei was rendered speechless. His strength was inferior—what else could he do?
Still, Yang Wei could not swallow this insult. He glared at Xiao Yun and snorted coldly. "I am merely the weakest Holy Son of the Desolate Ancient Sacred Land. Defeating me proves nothing. If you have the guts, compare yourself with the first Holy Son of our Desolate Ancient Sacred Land. Do you dare?"
Before Xiao Yun could speak, Zhao Wuji at his side shot Yang Wei a furious glare and sneered, "Yang Wei, can you have even a shred of shame? The first Holy Son of our Desolate Ancient Sacred Land reached the Out-of-Body Realm long ago. You want him to fight Xiao Yun? Why don't you ask him to fight Senior Di Tian instead?"
Yang Wei's old face reddened, but he still argued stubbornly. "Hmph, if you don't dare, then just say so. Don't make so many excuses."
"Shameless!" Zhao Wuji cursed. Then he said to Xiao Yun, "Let's go. Ignore him. Talking to an idiot like this is simply