"What does this lord want?" Amid his mockery, Wang Zijia looked at Feng Yingzhong and said:
"We initially didn't harbor any mortal feud, but you were overly arrogant. For over a month, you threatened my tens of thousands of clansmen and repeatedly sent 'invitations.' Now that I'm here today, what do you think we should do?"
"What audacity!" Feng Yingzhong was about to mock him again.
"Battle!"
But before he could utter another word, the long sword floating next to Wang Zijia slashed the void to his right.
"Snick!"
With a peculiar sound, a flying skull that was quietly approaching Wang Zijia was cut off by the long sword and split into two halves.
"Learn nothing, huh?" Wang Zijia sneered, grabbed the long sword, and turned into a flash of light, charging towards Feng Yingzhong.
Feng Yingzhong's body wavered, transforming into a dozen figures, each bearing a dark red Blood Stick not more than two feet long, and charged at Wang Zijia in return.
