'Thud!'
The one who Zhao Luo was staring at jumped on the stage.
"Getting hasty for your defeat?"
Zhao Luo questioned with the smirk that he couldn't get rid of, for some reason.
Mo Suo was the one who had jumped on the stage as he was like the last boss of the outer hall.
He had his sword in his left hand while his right hand was closed tightly and Zhao Luo could see it trembling.
Mo Suo waved his golden sword at Zhao Luo as it was the obvious reaction that he could show to someone who he wanted to kill so badly that he didn't notice that the nails of his fingers were ruining his palm.
"Not hasty for my defeat but for your neck which will feel my sword soon."
Mo Suo sounded out harshly as he opened his right hand and brought it on the hilt of his golden sword.
Zhao Luo looked calm while listening to Mo Suo's rubbish.
Zhao Luo didn't flinch instead he pointed his finger at his shoes.
