"Pfft!"
Alta spat out a mouthful of aged blood, his face waxen yellow and his breath short.
"Hehe, my master is still so fierce."
Little Kingfisher circled above the Martial Arts Arena, watching the spectacle with delight, "The poisonous tongue technique strikes again, just a few words and the opponent is already spewing blood."
"Alta."
Seeing their companion vomit blood, the two barbarian warriors no longer provoked and supported him on both sides, each revealing an anxious expression.
"I'm fine."
Alta's blood surged and he dared not speak too much, forcing himself not to fall.
The two barbarian warriors exchanged glances, tacitly understanding, "Your injuries are not light, let's retreat for now. When we have another chance, we'll avenge the shame of today."
"Alright."
Alta reluctantly nodded, unwilling to admit defeat. He raised his head once again, glaring at the young girl who stood nonchalantly atop the giant eagle.
