Mo Handa stood proudly. Black heard an extreme confidence in the old fellow's voice.
Opponents from the same starfield were, at most, provisions.
Then what on earth had this old fellow killed before...?
Following that line of thought, a faint sense of terror surfaced.
Black suddenly felt like a pathetic little weakling, trembling in a hunter's grasp.
"Um, old fellow, I'm not tasty. I'm just a piece of scrap metal. Don't set your sights on me." Black spoke with difficulty, clearly summoning enormous courage to say those words.
Yet just as it looked nervously toward Mo Handa, a shadow abruptly appeared amid a distortion in the void.
Black's eyes widened sharply.
That familiar feeling...
Damn it! Again—
Black's terrified cry came to an abrupt stop.
Bang!
A Dark Gold Short Stick viciously struck Black across the face.
Amid a tremendous clang of metal, Black was sent flying like a baseball.
Silently withdrawing his hand, Mo Handa spoke grimly into the virtual space. "Mu Fan, the name of our Holy Hall has always been carved out through slaughter. Kill these newcomers and use them as provisions as well."
That weathered voice reverberated in his ears.
Mu Fan raised his eyes indifferently.
"...Who am I?"
"Nothing more than provisions from the Forest Domain. Do you... have the right to ask questions?"
Deep within Mu Fan's pupils, the green vortex abruptly accelerated, and a grim smile appeared on his face.
What!
Ambros and the three great generals froze at the same time. Someone had actually called them provisions.
What?
Great Clan Elder Lu Hua's mind shook violently. Why did this person's words carry a nobility even greater than the Divine Son's?
When his gaze inadvertently fell upon Mu Fan's eyes, that swirling ghostly green made his soul feel the urge to bend and