As Flame Patriarch spoke, not for a moment did Zhu Xinrong and Old Ghost Zuo show any intention of saluting him.
Such words, if spoken by anyone else, would surely be taken as the ramblings of a madman.
However, as soon as those words left Flame Patriarch's lips, the expressions of Zhu Xinrong and Old Ghost Zuo turned exceedingly ugly.
And there, with every stride, the Flame Patriarch was enveloped in a crimson aura. Initially just three feet across, the aura expanded to thirty feet with a single step.
Another step, and it grew to three hundred feet!
Within that thirty-feet-wide, red-glowing aura, the Flame Patriarch resembled a god who ruled over life and death!
Zheng Ming watched the approaching Flame Patriarch, feeling an instinctual tremor in his heart. Even now, with the Red-faced Divine Sword in his hand and various desperate measures at his disposal, he still clearly felt like an insignificant bug in front of Flame Patriarch.
