'The only ones who could defeat me so easily would be in those two realms,' he thought. 'The Eleventh Realm and the Twelfth Realm.'
He stared at the middle-aged man in the conical hat, not daring to entertain any thoughts of revenge. His voice grew hoarse and dry as he trembled and said:
"Could you be the Garrison Commander of Yulu Pass..."
"I was terribly out of line!"
"Get lost."
Zhao Xuanwu paid him no further mind. That single, casual word—"lost"—sent the man scrambling away in disgrace.
