"Slay me?"
Zhao Wu's eyes flickered with brilliance, sneering repeatedly, his words filled with undisguised ridicule, contempt, and mockery.
It seemed like the most amusing joke he had ever heard.
"A waste with Thirteen Soul Qi, enough to shock all the cultivators in the Dark God Domain, yet, in a lowly realm of Divine Spirit First Transformation, dares to dream of slaying a genius like me at Divine Spirit Fourth Transition? Should I say you're an ignorant native of the Desolate, or are you simply brain-dead?"
Zhao Wu's words were so intimidating, carrying an endless dominance, each sentence like a powerful burst of energy aimed at reverberating into Zhou Yan's body, intending to suppress Zhou Yan alive, making him suffer humiliation and die in front of Lin Hui.
Each word and sentence was filled with a momentum of devouring mountains and rivers, spoken as if a giant mountain had descended for suppression, utilizing pressure in an exceptionally skilled manner.
"Swish—"
