After he finished speaking, Braydon said, "Luke, send him away!"
His eyes sparkled with excitement.
It had been a long time since he'd faced an opponent of his own generation!
The Prodigy Tournament had a spirit body?
That made things interesting.
Braydon didn't mind joining in on the fun.
As for participating in the competition itself, he wasn't interested.
He was tired of the complicated rules and the underhanded tactics.
Even if he didn't compete, he could still meet those outstanding individuals.
After all, the stage for cultivators was the vast and boundless starry sky.
Luke Yates promptly threw Grady Schuster out of the window.
The dignified Third Prince had been unceremoniously thrown out with no regard for his status.
A black-robed figure stood outside the Stargazing Hotel and quickly caught Grady. "Third Young Master!"
"Uncle Harrell, you're here!" Grady exclaimed with relief.
