As Marquis Zi Xiao of Zi Qing faced the fact that he couldn't accept his defeat, his angry howl erupted. A young, melodious voice rang out before him, "You useless trash, you've lost!"
After the voice fell, a sequence of leisurely footsteps followed.
Zi Xiao looked ahead and glared fiercely at the slowly approaching figure clad in blood-colored garb, like a wild beast gone mad, and once again bellowed,
"No! I haven't lost! I haven't lost at all! I, Zi Xiao, am the true champion of this contest, and only I, Zi Xiao, am worthy of Linglong. All of you can only tarnish her with your filthy bodies!
No one but me, Zi Xiao, is worthy of obtaining Linglong! Worthy of touching Linglong!"
"You trash, are even less worthy!" Shi Feng, looking down, gazed at Zi Xiao, who was thrashing like a mad dog, and spoke coldly. Then, he bent his finger, and a flame-like blood-colored blaze promptly emerged at his fingertips.
