Luke Yates secretly left the platform, wanting to go down and save Farron Sampson.
Braydon Neal raised his hand and grabbed the back of Luke's head. "Sit still!" he said coldly.
"Brother!"
The little fool trashed wildly and pulled at Braydon's hand with all his might, trying to break free and save Farron.
Braydon ignored Luke and took a step forward. "Farron, admit defeat," he said softly.
It was a light sentence.
But it attracted the attention of all the martial artists present. They all looked at the white-robed Braydon on the high platform, and then looked at Farron on the third ring.
Would he admit defeat?
All the martial artists were watching.
Farron stood on the stage, leaning on the Northern Army sword. He stood up shakily and panted heavily. He looked at Braydon on the stage and grinned, revealing his white teeth. His face was covered in blood, but his smile was sincere.
