"Pah, a bunch of brats, thinking they can compete with me." Wu Xian spat out a mouthful of bloody spittle, a result of the Sect Disciples' attack just moments before.
The faces were unfamiliar, but the Spells they used were clearly not from any local Sect, but from that group of out-of-town Demon Path Sects.
He had narrowly escaped death, almost killed by these demonic brats.
Yes, he had lost; he had only managed to run faster.
Though being beaten to this state by a group of youngsters might seem humiliating, in reality, it wasn't shameful at all.
The legacy he had received was incomplete, and he lacked sufficient resources or guidance. Essentially, he was a mere amateur. His Cultivation time was also short—in fact, it had only been half a year.
Those Sect Disciples had cultivated for even less time. However, they had received superior education and training regimens, including sparring partners, making them far beyond his ability to compare.
