"Fang Han..."
Upon seeing Fang Han's face and the robes of a Qingxuan Sect True Disciple, a cold, taunting smirk slowly formed on Meng Xian's lips.
His voice had a gravelly, magnetic quality, yet it was utterly devoid of warmth.
"Well, well. To think I'd find you here after searching high and low. That piece of trash, Gong Xing, may have broken the rules and deserved to die, but he was still a True Inheritor of my Netherworld Pavilion."
"The Pavilion issued an order long ago: kill Fang Han on sight. Today's the perfect day to settle all our scores, new and old."
His gaze swept past Fang Han's tightly gripped Cloud Splitting Sword, finally landing on his face with the taunting look of a cat toying with a mouse.
"Hand over the Xuanwu True Skill, and I might be merciful enough to leave your body intact."
His tone was nonchalant, yet it carried an unquestionable, domineering confidence.
