"How dare you trifle with me, junior!" Wang Tianhe trembled with rage.
He was a mighty late Nascent Soul cultivator. When had anyone of his own realm ever tormented him with such shameless, thuggish tactics?
"Junior?" Sheltered inside the Wooden Prison, Changqingzi sneered. "King of Langya, you certainly have a short memory. Do you remember the Hundred Flowers Secret Realm in the East China Sea, a thousand years ago?"
Wang Tianhe paused, his brow furrowing.
A thousand years was far too long. He had seized too many opportunities and killed countless people. How could he remember some Hundred Flowers Secret Realm?
Seeing his expression, Changqingzi's eyes flashed with intense hatred.
"Back then, I barely survived breaking through the Hundred Flowers Secret Realm's formation. Then you suddenly appeared, you old bastard. Relying on your late Nascent Soul cultivation, you didn't even spare me a proper glance. You said only one word: 'Scram!'"
Changqingzi's voice rose, carrying a thousand years of pent-up humiliation.
"When you stole an opportunity from a junior in core formation, did you ever imagine this day would come?!"
Wang Tianhe finally remembered, and his fury turned into laughter.
"So you're that ant! Sparing you instead of crushing you with a single palm was already an immense mercy! Now you dare kick me while I'm down? I'll rip out your soul and refine it!"
Wang Tianhe frantically squeezed out the spiritual power remaining in his body. The Blood Skeletons doubled in size and gnawed madly at the Wooden Prison.
Changqingzi remained utterly unruffled. He repaired the Wooden Prison while continuing to taunt Wang Tianhe, keeping him firmly pinned down.
Meanwhile.
Chen Lin and Yun Sheng's battle had reached a stalemate.
Although Wang Chan had lost both legs and his early Nascent Soul cultivation was on the verge of collapse,