"Clan Leader Fusheng, your speed is too slow."
Wang Xu didn't miss the chance to throw in a couple of taunts, making Fusheng Wuya, who missed two strikes, instantly flush with anger.
After all, Fusheng Wuya considered himself an ancient spirit of the Ganges, a being of four fingers.
Moreover, he was the founder of a clan, presiding over it.
In the eyes of the Pu'a and Fusheng clansmen, he was a great figure who had fought and risked his life on countless battlefields!
Yet such a great figure was repeatedly humiliated by a Ganges True Spirit of only three fingers.
Could this not make Fusheng Wuya angry?
"Go to hell!"
Fusheng Wuya roared in fury, his stone axe slashing continuously, his storm-like offensive enveloping Wang Xu, aiming to kill him on the spot.
But to Wang Xu, this storm-like offense was simply like a drizzle, not even enough to scratch an itch.
His shape tilted, his body twisted, and he stepped aside...
