"..."
The corner of the Sword Saint of Fierce Wind's mouth twitched when he heard Ye Futian's words. He wanted very, very badly to just beat him to death, right there and then.
The sword saint had waited for so long and had brought him all the way to King Li's Palace just to see his sword at work, all while letting the Sword Clan of the Gale have a moment of glory on top of that.
The fights were about to end, and Ye Futian had told the sword saint that none of those who had fought was worthy of him drawing his sword.
"I knew it. He doesn't dare to make a move and has just been bluffing all this time. I sure as hell don't know what you're thinking, father," Huanxue quipped, feeling furious at Ye Futian's reply.
Just admit that you're a coward already, everyone thought. None of the cultivators from the Nine Counties of Dali are worthy of you drawing your sword, you say?
Buls*hit, they thought.
