If the young man in the bamboo hat really was from Xuelao City, then Xuanyuan Po would not mind paying everything, even his own life, to stop him.
This was what he had decided.
The young man was unaffected by this statement, his visage remaining serene.
It was the feeling that he gave everyone: to him, everything was routine, even life and death.
Both sides had already expressed their stances, so now it was time to prove them.
Xuanyuan Po knew that his opponent was very strong, at least much stronger than him, so he chose to strike first.
From the morning two days ago when he stood on the crude fighting platform in the Pine Paths, his nine consecutive victories, up to now, this was his first time striking first.
The ground thudded as his fur shoes struck the hard stone ground.
The chilly air in front of the Imperial City suddenly began to pop.
These popping sounds were not very loud, but they were extremely clear.
