Chu Mo glanced at the youth, silently stood up, carried the Heaven Slaying, and slowly walked over.
The youth glanced at the sword in Chu Mo's hand, the corner of his mouth twitched, and a touch of fear flashed deep in his eyes. Although he did not know what kind of sword it was, a single look was enough to tell that it was a fine sword.
A good weapon, in this place, was akin to a divine artifact. Countless people had lost their lives for a good weapon. Who exactly was this person to dare to carry such a treasure sword around? He must remind him later.
The youth, leading Chu Mo, kept moving deeper along the riverbank without speaking, nor did Chu Mo ask.
