Clang!
Blades clashed, and Kong Geyou fell hard once again, his great sword slipping from his grasp and hitting the ground.
No.
He was gasping for air, disregarding the sharp pain in his chest and abdomen as he awkwardly crawled, reaching for his sword.
He needed to fight.
He had to stand up.
"How much money did Fesso give you?"
Standing opposite him, Losang II looked emotionless, "to make you fight so desperately?"
Enough money to change a life?
Or a promise to eliminate future worries?
Kong Geyou reached his great sword, and let out a short snort.
Money?
How laughable.
The Hundred-Step Ranger did everything in his power to pick up his great sword, trembling as he staggered to his feet.
"I came voluntarily, didn't take any money."
"So it's a personal grudge?"
Losang II watched his gritted-teeth struggling adversary with numb eyes:
"Did I harm your friend, or a lover?"
"Neither."
"Then for what reason?"
