"Dadao, no, don't kill anyone else, he's just a child," Granny Yangjin's somewhat weak voice came from behind.
"This ungrateful wretch, what is the use of keeping him?" Wang Dadong said coldly, his gaze sweeping over the stunned Zangmin around him.
"Please let Hake go, we were wrong, we shouldn't have repaid kindness with ingratitude," Lange pleaded, thudding down onto the ground.
At that moment, many Zhuanghu woke up to reality, thudding to their knees one by one.
Zhuanghu respect the strong, not because the Witch God had made great contributions.
But because it was rumored that the first generation Witch God was the bravest man among the Zhuanghu, who could fight fierce tigers barehanded.
Because they firmly believed that it is impossible for humans to kill a tiger, only the strongest warrior blessed by the gods could possess such power.
Eventually, the Witch God became regarded as the Guardian God of the Zhuanghu, his status growing ever more sacred.
