Lin Chen's long hair fluttered as he stepped into the sky. His seemingly ordinary face held a divine aura, like the War God—invincible, sweeping across the world, unmatched.
Suddenly, gravel trembled, and a massive light circle expanded, shaking the gravel into airborne fragments. The Curse God looked up, fixating on the dust of the forest.
Lin Chen, upon seeing this, smirked disdainfully and said, "Such petty tricks."
The Curse God's face turned even uglier upon hearing Lin Chen's words, burning with rage. No matter how evil Lin Chen was, he was only in the late stage of the divine world. Deep within the Curse God's bones was an air of superiority. Lin Chen was nothing more than a mole to him. This was a habit cultivated over years, now belittled by a mere mole. And this mole relied on his own power, not any background, making it hard for the Curse God to accept. Even with no one around to witness the battle, the Curse God couldn't accept it.
