The red-armored Barbarian General entered the hall and habitually knelt down.
Wusha didn't kneel, he simply bowed to Mo Hua and said,
"Lord Shaman, Wusha is late, please punish me."
Mo Hua, supporting his arm, was lost in thought on his chair, and upon hearing this, raised his eyes to glance at Wusha.
Indeed, Wusha was not the same as before.
His cultivation had improved, his demeanor seemed more noble, and he wore a luxurious chieftain's battle robe of the Barbarian Tribes.
Mo Hua could see that the original robe was supposed to be even more extravagant.
But just because he was coming to see him, Wusha reluctantly removed some gold tassels and jade stone decorations, appearing slightly more modest.
It must have been difficult for him.
Mo Hua's expression remained indifferent.
Wusha kept his bowing stance.
After a moment, Mo Hua asked him, "Do you still remember what I instructed you?"
Wusha clasped his hands, "Naturally, I remember."
