A Swift Victory

The Dragon Clan held a grudge against Yuan Tian. He remembered that much now; there really was bad blood between them. But he could not be sure they had come for him. That was only his own deduction. Still, he felt he ought to greet them. He had that much "courtesy." Otherwise, they might think he was afraid.

In truth, Yuan Tian had no choice but to greet them. Long Zhuo and the others had blocked his path. If he wanted to leave, he would have to "greet" them first. Of course, he could use Spatial Law's Teleportation, but Long Zhuo was no easy opponent. How that would end was hard to say.

Yuan Tian walked slowly out of Liubo Mountain. Sixteen people stood outside, just as he had expected: three Quasi-Sages and thirteen Daluo Golden Immortals. Daluo Golden Immortals no longer merited his attention. They were simply not in the same league. Two of the Quasi-Sages seemed to have advanced only recently, so he dismissed them as well.

That left one Quasi-Sage he could not ignore. The man looked about thirty and was handsome—handsomer than Yuan Tian, at least, which irritated him. Yuan Tian guessed he led this Dragon Clan party. He was the strongest, after all, and in the Primordial Wilderness, strength had always ruled. With his cultivation, he nearly ranked among its top experts. If he did not lead them, who would? This man deserved Yuan Tian's attention.

"Huh? Who are you? Why are you here?" Was Yuan Tian playing the pig to eat the tiger? He knew perfectly well where they came from, yet he asked anyway.

"Hmph. Do we need to report to you wherever we go? And who we are—don't you know?" Long Zhuo regarded Yuan Tian's question with disdain. *As if you don't