"Really? What a narrow-minded view. It's a shame you've made the wrong choice. Sometimes, fate doesn't give you a second chance. Today, this place will be your grave!"
Ning Yuanchen said coolly.
"Why waste your breath on them? Only when they know true despair and fear will they make the right choice."
"The Vermilion Bird Sect is known for its mastery of fire. I wonder how you compare to me?"
The words had barely left Ning Yuanchen's lips when the medium-built, devilishly handsome Neon man on the other side spoke in the fluent language of the Divine Land, a faint smile on his face.
The next moment, he took a sharp breath, his chest swelling like a balloon. The smell of sulfur and scorched air grew thicker. Within a five-meter radius around him, all vegetation withered instantly, and the dead wood burst into roaring flames.
Then, he exhaled with sudden force, his lungs contracting. But what he expelled was not air—it was a roaring jet of fire!!
