Zhao Dong glanced at the old man, who was watching the scene with the expression of a bystander enjoying a spectacle, and felt his own face darken with frustration. This old guy is certainly unconcerned. Isn't he afraid of getting splattered with blood? But recalling that the old man was no simple character, Zhao Dong decided not to bother with him.
Recollecting himself, Zhao Dong's icy gaze pierced the men.
"Kill him!" the tall man snorted. Immediately, the four seventh-level Great Grandmasters behind him charged out.
Their approach was ferocious, and their attacks were killing blows from the very start, holding nothing back. The deadly moves were as fierce as the descending wrath of the heavens, their terrifying auras whipping up gales that kicked up clouds of dust.
