"Haha, fourth grade now, Ajing can enter the final round of the martial trial." Su Zhenglong had no idea what General Ning was feeling, and he hugged Mei Xiaofang next to him, extremely delighted.
"Hmph, barely scraping by the last round, he won't possibly pass the third."
This time, General Ning did not speak; instead, the black-armored soldier who had previously drawn his sword against Sikong Jing spoke, "Moreover, he won't be able to advance further; his martial wisdom will be completely locked at the seventeenth wooden stele."
Upon hearing this, Su Zhenglong and the others felt their hearts sink again, their faces filled with worry.
However, the next moment, Sikong Jing suddenly walked past the seventeenth wooden stele without the slightest pause.
All eyes turned to the black-armored soldier.
The latter was dumbstruck, his face gradually flushing red: "Impossible, how did he pass it?"
We'd like to know as well.
