Lian Youming glanced at the people behind Nalan Wushe. Seeing no sign of Mr. Corpse, his expression shifted slightly. He looked outside the arena, only to discover that Xu Tian, Li Jinglin, his own martial uncle, and the others were gone as well.
Faced with enemies on every side, Gu Feiyan showed no alarm. Instead, she smiled delightedly.
"Uncertainty is what makes it good! If everything went as we wished, wouldn't it be boring?"
As she spoke, she looked at Nalan Wushe. "You must be the man who once stood a chance of commanding all the Mountain Guardians. Your master was a supreme martial artist, someone who ranked alongside Daoist Xuanming in the demon-slaying battle."
The moment she said this, the atmosphere changed.
Li Da, Yang Cuo, and the others all cast covert glances at Nalan Wushe. Even Lian Youming frowned slightly.
Daoist Xuanming was the Junk King, yet this man could actually be mentioned in the same breath as him, and his identity was anything but ordinary.
Gu Feiyan clapped again. Nine martial artists with distinct auras immediately stepped out behind her, some Black, some white. They either radiated menace, their eyes filled with malice, or wore cold, cruel gazes, reeking of blood.
The instant they stepped onto the platform, they each swallowed a pill without a word. The qi and blood in their bodies surged, and their auras rose in successive waves. "I have no interest in dealing with small fry."
Still chatting and smiling, Gu Feiyan abruptly walked toward the other end. Her meaning was self-evident.
Li Da and Yang Cuo exchanged a glance, then signaled Gongyang Ming and the disciples of the other schools with their eyes.
But neither man chased after her impatiently. Instead, they looked coldly at Nalan Wushe.
If this man truly was