"Cuck? Granddaddy?" Mochen repeated, still unable to comprehend the young man's boundless audacity.
Did Qingyi really believe that, simply because he'd knocked out a tooth, they were on the same level?
Suddenly, Mochen's heart was filled with a hatred so deep that it was no less than what he felt when his best friend perished.
"You're from the Eternal River Sect..." Mochen growled, "Your guardian is that damned tiger, Yanxiao... I fought him a few centuries ago. He barely lasted twenty exchanges before running away with his tail between his legs."
"I wonder... how many can you handle?" The instant Mochen's voice ceased, his saber tore through the air.
A slash of crimson demonic Qi flew towards Qingyi, expanding violently.
The handsome young man didn't dare hold back, not in front of someone like the leader of the Demon Cult.
Gritting his teeth, he summoned the Eternal Wall of the Icy Lord, forming a thick barrier of crystalline ice in front of him.
