"Damn it..." In the Holy Land, the Five Elders finally could no longer suppress their anger and shock. Even they, usually as steady as mountains, were somewhat rattled.
Especially the bald man in white Taoist robes and glasses, who could not help but curse aloud.
Unlike the other four Five Elders, this man did not wear a traditional black or dark suit, choosing instead a robe as white as snow.
He was also the only member of the Five Elders without a beard. Moreover, he gripped an incomparably sharp katana in his hand, as though it were a symbol of his identity.
This man was none other than the world-renowned Saint Nusjuro! His expression was cold and stern, and an invisible pressure radiated from him as though he were an insurmountable mountain.
At that moment, his right hand had silently crept onto the hilt like a poison snake. At the slightest disturbance, he would draw his blade like lightning and cut down his enemy. If he had truly been there, he would likely have been unable to restrain his killing intent and struck without hesitation.
"Calm yourself, Saint Nusjuro." The Five Elder beside him, dressed in a pitch-black suit and sporting a neatly trimmed mustache, spoke in a grave, low voice.
Saint Nusjuro was startled by his words. Only after taking a deep breath did he slowly release the hilt he had been gripping.
Yet although he appeared calm again, a blazing fire of fury still burned deep within his eyes.
"Damn it! That pirate who doesn't know his place actually dared to be so arrogant—to openly challenge our authority!" Another Five Elder gritted his teeth, veins bulging across his forehead.
Saint Nusjuro was equally enraged. Clenching his fists, he forced out the words through his teeth, "We absolutely cannot