After a while, the originally pale as paper face of Dong Tiesong seemed to have regained some color. If not for the blood at the corner of his mouth, there was hardly any difference in his complexion.
He stepped forward with his sword, his voice hoarse, cursing, "You cowards, skilled only in inflicting wounds with hidden arrows, do you dare to face me in a duel to the death?"
The leader of the men in black robes and masks looked at Dong Tiesong full of mockery and said indifferently, "Elder Dong's acting skills are too crude and in dire need of polishing."
He clicked his tongue twice, "After all, you're not professionally trained. Improvised methods are useless. Despite having such good props at your disposal, you still manage to perform like this, which shows that the Almighty is not willing to let you make a living as an actor."
