"You stole our treasure! Give it back, now!"
"Not moving?"
"How dare you!"
From the blazing inferno ahead, a sharp cry boomed like a thunderclap.
Muri Tianxiu, his expression frigid, sat astride an Ancient Lion and stared coldly at Fang Yang.
Others might be wary or afraid of Fang Yang, but not him.
With Muri Guang Huang backing him, what did he have to fear?
At this moment, Fang Yang's face was calm. He held his Crimson Purple Battle Lance, slowly raising it to point directly at Muri Tianxiu, the one who had shouted the loudest.
This was a figure from the Celestial Ranking. Although his rank was lower than Fang Yang's clan uncle, Fang Hao, he was not to be underestimated.
Now, the Ancient Lion beneath Tianxiu shook its head and wagged its tail, its mane dancing wildly with dark flames. It looked exceptionally savage, ready to charge at any moment.
"Interesting, interesting."
As a fierce wind gusted, Fang Yang gave a faint smile.
