Elder Mu Qing laughed heartily on the stage: "If Shaman Ji Nuan didn't agree, I wouldn't have announced this decision."
"Watson Tribe! Shaman Ji Nuan!" An orc's voice suddenly sounded, chilling in tone.
Ji Nuan looked up in the direction of the voice upon hearing it. From the spot occupied by the Gru Tribe, an orc who bore a striking resemblance to Bertel rose from his beast skin mat.
Behind him, other sturdy orcs also stood up.
Upon seeing those familiar brows and eyes, a bitter chill surged in Ji Nuan's heart. Her once vibrant and handsome face slowly grew cold as ice, the curve at the corner of her mouth flattened out, coming together in a straight line, the temperature in her eyes becoming all the more chilling and intimidating.
Looking at the petite figure seething with rage slowly rising from the beast skin mat, the surrounding orcs were all stunned into dead silence, their breaths held. The trading arena fell silent.
