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A young Spiritual Revolution cultivator wasn’t simply unafraid. He even dared say they wouldn’t know the outcome of their battle until they fought.
Hong Ying was a bit surprised, and he said to the Netherworld King, “Your Excellency, do you think the boy is simply ignorant? Or does he have something up his sleeves?”
The Netherworld King’s bewitching eyes shone with a hint of strange light. “He’s naturally no ordinary person. It’s just that his cultivation is overly weak.”
Hong Ying couldn’t help but smile, his gaze playful. “Even if his authority were as vast as the skies, and even if his background were enough to shock the heavens, all of that would be as inconsequential as the passing clouds.”
As he spoke, he waved. “No need to waste any more time. Someone, go capture Liu Changsheng and that kid.”
“Got it!”
There were seven people behind Hong Ying in total: five Jailers and two Chosen Apostles.
In response to Hong Ying’s orders, two Jailers promptly stepped up: a thin man in black with twin silver daggers, and a short-haired girl in a fur skirt. Her skin was coppery, her eyes were as sharp as knives, and she gripped a black scythe.
Both were in the late-stage Profound Illumination Realm, and every inch of them emanated...
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