At Fang Lang's words, the ten men who had joined the wager all looked grim.
They had thought Little Fatty didn't know his own limits. He had staked a hundred thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones on a reckless impulse, and losing seemed inevitable.
After all, Qin Hao had never shown a Sword Domain. He had only used his Wind Domain.
But none of them had expected...
Even with only his Wind Domain, he had effortlessly won fifteen matches in a row.
"Little Fatty sure got lucky. He won a hundred thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones in one go."
Plenty of people kept turning to look. More than Qin Hao's fifteen consecutive victories, they envied how quickly Fang Lang had earned those Spirit Stones.
In the blink of an eye, he had won a hundred thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones!
What could make money faster than a wager?
"Hmph, Little Fatty, don't get smug. You just got lucky. Dare to bet again?" the sharp-faced man said bitterly.
As he spoke, the man handed Fang Lang his ten thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones.
"Yours, and yours too."
"Don't think any of you can slip away. The City Lord's Manor enforces wagers on the Sword Pool Tournament."
Fang Lang grinned from ear to ear as he collected the Spirit Stones one by one. The Cloudwing Beast on his shoulder gave a soft chirp.
Little One could find treasures, but searching took effort, and sometimes even put him in danger.
Fang Lang had it different.
One wager had earned him so much.
"Chirp, chirp," the Cloudwing Beast murmured.
"I know." Fang Lang waggled his eyebrows and spoke to the Cloudwing Beast in a low voice.
Little One was reminding Fang Lang that the Spirit Stones he had won weren't his alone. Qin Hao deserved a share; he was