Time ticked away, second by second, and Chu Hao remained seated, absorbing the Star Stone.
He wasn't in a hurry at all.
But the Native Faction was anxious, their three top generals pinned under Chu Hao's buttocks. With each second that passed, it was like receiving another slap in the face, unbearable and painful.
That brat was too hateful. Why wouldn't he sit on the ground? Why did he insist on sitting on top of the three men?
"Chu Hao, are you done yet?"
"Are you scared and pretending to still be resting?"
"Being scared is useless, you're dead today no matter what."
People from the Native Faction began to shout, their anger mounting as the waiting time dragged on.
The disciples of the River Down Courtyard immediately retorted that Chu Hao had already fought three consecutive battles. What was wrong with resting a bit longer? The Native Faction had started to rotate their fighters against him, and still, they didn't allow one to rest properly. Were they shameless?
