Braydon Neal held the cold sword in his left hand.
The tip of the cold sword was pointed diagonally at the ground.
The martial artists of the Babcock family were terrified and did not dare to look at Braydon's handsome face.
"Harrison Jarrell, you've got guts. Not only did you scheme against me, but you're even using me as a blade!" Braydon said softly.
"Lord Northern King, I..."
When Harrison raised his head, there was an indelible fear in the depths of his eyes.
He looked at Braydon as if he was looking at a devil.
This white-robed young man seemed to have seen through all of his thoughts and plans.
He was simply way too terrifying!
Jonathan Babcock breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his head to wipe the cold sweat from his temples.
However, it was too early for him to rejoice!
