Everyone's gaze soon converged on him alone.
He wore black robes, his hair tied up, and held an Iron Fan in his hand.
His face? They couldn't make it out. An iron mask shaped like a savage beast covered it completely.
His appearance immediately caused quite a stir.
The spectator stands erupted at the sight of him.
"Isn't... isn't that the Pavilion Master of the Killing God Pavilion?! Why would he come to the Martial Arena in person?"
"What a powerful aura! Even the weakest of those guards beside him is at the seventh level of the Martial Saint Realm!"
"Exactly. That old man must be at least at the third level of the Human Immortal Realm."
"The third level of the Human Immortal Realm? Holy shit! No wonder people always say Mortal Immortals walk everywhere in the Killing God Pavilion, and Martial Saints are as common as dogs."
The Killing God Pavilion?
Hearing those words, Chen Mu gave a faint, unobtrusive smile.
"The Pavilion Master of the Killing God Pavilion?" Those words likewise piqued Yi Ge's interest in the masked man.
He turned around and raised his chin slightly, looking down his nose at him.
He thought he was displaying the majesty of an imperial household, but to everyone else, he looked no different from a street thug.
They saw none of the Royal Clan's dignity, only a petty man swollen with success, portrayed to perfection.
"Do you own this Martial Arena?" Yi Ge asked, stepping closer.
"That's right." The masked man closed his Iron Fan, tapped it against his palm, and nodded.
"Then, with so many of my guards dying on your turf, how do you intend to compensate this prince?" Yi Ge demanded arrogantly.
"You should know that training even one of my guards costs no small