Ouch!
Qian Xunji clawed his golden hair into a bird's nest, no longer caring about the Pope's dignity.
"Uncle Golden Crocodile, spare me. Didn't I just say it? One slap—just one slap—and I was smacked into the ground. If Xuan Xiao hadn't been unwilling to kill, that lion-dog would've turned me into a meal long ago."
As Qian Daoliu watched this unruly bunch, cracks finally appeared in his usually impassive expression. The corners of his mouth twitched; he wanted to laugh, but held it in.
He turned to look at Qian Xunji's bedraggled state and suddenly thought to himself.
Though this son of his was disappointing, at least he was still alive. That was far better than being killed by the mysterious Xuan Xiao.
He would rather his son live as a good-for-nothing than have white-haired parents bury their black-haired child. That would be far too miserable. He took a deep breath and asked,
"How old is that Xuan Xiao?"
Qian Daoliu asked in a deep voice. It was not loud, yet every word struck everyone's hearts like a hammer. Everyone pricked up their ears, waiting for the Pope's answer.
Qian Xunji took a deep breath. Looking into his father's golden eyes, his voice trembled slightly from lingering fear.
"Fourteen years old. A level fifty-nine Soul King. Judging by his aura, he should have only just broken through to level fifty-nine."
The moment those words came out, the Worship Hall fell silent again. A needle dropping to the ground could have been heard. Everyone's eyes widened, as though they had seen a ghost. Fourteen years old and level fifty-nine?
Was he even human? They had lived for so many years and seen geniuses, seen monsters, but never a freak like this. He was practically a demon.
Golden Crocodile opened his