C76

Ron's eyes had a deep hatred in them, and when he saw Wharton looking at him, he did not flinch to meet his gaze.

"It's him?"

"Really?" It was actually him? The fool who rewarded twenty gold coins in one breath? "

"A child around the age of ten actually alarmed a Saint realm expert of the Holy Church? Impossible, right? "

When the mercenaries saw Ron come forward, their eyes were filled with shock. They never would have thought that a ten year old child-like youth would actually be caught by a Saint realm expert. From the looks of it, he seemed to have a deep grudge.

"I've finally found you, Ron!"

Wharton's lips quirked upwards in a hint of a smile. "And here I thought you'd spend your entire life cowering like a turtle, unable to come out."

Ron took a deep breath, looked Wharton up and down, and said in a low voice, "What exactly do you want?"

"Very simple. Put down your weapons, surrender, and return with us to receive the judgment of the court …"

"Accept your court's ruling? "Haha …" Ron was so angry that he started laughing. When his laughter stopped, he gritted his teeth and asked, "Why? How can you decide a man's life or death? That's right, I have cultivated in Necromancy, but what basis do you have to judge a person who cultivates in Necromancy to be a heretic?! "

At this moment, the mercenaries suddenly realized that the Holy Church had come to hunt down the heretic. No wonder they had to put in so much effort just to kill a necromancer. It seemed like they were making a big fuss out of nothing.

Some of the mercenaries looked at Ron with sympathy in their eyes and thought, "What's so bad about this guy learning the most undesirable undead magic? Not only does offending the Holy Church not have any use, he's really stupid!"

Wharton's face sank. Just as he was about to attack and teach Ron a lesson, someone nearby suddenly jumped out.

"How dare you!"

"What right do you, a damned heretic, have to speak to Lord Wharton in such a tone!"

After speaking, he turned and bowed towards Wharton. "Lord Wharton, please allow me to act and teach this arrogant fellow a lesson!"

Wharton thought for a moment, then laughed calmly and nodded. "Go on. Perhaps you won't come back to see me!"

Diallo was overjoyed. Wharton's words had given him a chance to make a meritorious contribution, and he knew very well what being rewarded at this point in time meant. He hurriedly said, "Lord, I beseech you!"

Wharton didn't comment. He walked to a nearby table, leisurely sitting down.

Diallo's face revealed an evil grin. He slowly pulled out a gold-ranked two-handed sword from his spatial space and said, "Lowly, dirty, lowly heretic. You will die under my, Diallo's, sword!" And this mercenary station will be your burial ground! "

Ron didn't have anything to do with it, but Hou Meilin, who was inside his soul ring, was so angry that his lungs were about to burst, "Puny? Dirty? Lowly? When the Church of Calamity swept through the Omorus Continent, where was the Holy Church? This guy dares to speak nonsense in front of me? "

"Boom!" At this time, strong flames burst out from Diallo's body. The flames burned fiercely, making him look like a man made of fire. Behind him, two huge wings made of flames slowly opened up, flapping gently.

"Flaming Wings!" This guy is a grandmaster level expert? " A trace of shock flashed across the eyes of the surrounding mercenaries. The strength of the Holy Church was truly unfathomable.

Diallo, an intermediate great swordsman, trained in flaming battle-qi. His attacks were scorching hot, and even in a place like the Holy Church, where experts were as common as the clouds, he was rarely a match.

Diallo seemed to be intentionally showing off, spreading out his wings to their maximum extent. Looking at the pale expression on Ron's face, he felt extremely pleased with himself.

"Humph!" It was just a grandmaster level expert! I will make him lie down in three minutes! " "Hmph!" Hou Meilin grunted in dissatisfaction. Ron, your body is too weak. I might not be able to beat that Saint realm expert, but I'm not going to deal with him as if he were a toy to me. I must teach him a lesson this time! Let him know the power of Necromancy! "

Komelin said angrily.

Before Ron could say anything, Wharton frowned. "Stop playing. Get him and go back early!"

"Yes!" "My Lord!" Diallo's heart trembled. He knew that he had gone too far, and that he had provoked the displeasure of Lord Wharton. He raised his head, looked at Ron, smiled, and his entire body flew into the air.

"Rise …" Up into the air? He … He can fly! " Ron was panicking a little.

"It's nothing, even a grandmaster can fly!" "He's going to attack!"

"Die!"

Diallo's eyes flashed, and his body turned into a ball of light as he pounced towards Ron.

His opponent's sword carried with it a great amount of fire power. Ron felt his body heat up as if it was on fire. The powerful force made him feel suffocated.

It was too late, too soon, when a sudden surge of power came up behind him and blocked Ron's way.

"Boom —"

Diallo was not in time to retract his momentum. He slashed out with the swords in both hands, clashing directly with the force of the attack. A loud explosion could be heard.

A powerful force surged out, shocking Diallo. This force was so strong that it far exceeded his imagination. As soon as he came into contact with it, he was immediately forced back.

"What?"

Diallo's eyes widened in disbelief. He could clearly see that the powerful force came from a small object. Surprisingly, that small object was … a chicken bone. A chicken bone that had been bitten by someone.

Just by relying on a chicken bone, he was able to force a grandmaster to retreat.

Diallo's flaming battle-qi was shaken to the point of dispersing. "Deng deng deng …" After retreating a few steps, he raised his head, a trace of blood seeping out from the corner of his mouth. A look of astonishment flashed in Diallo's eyes.

Right at this moment, Wharton, standing behind him, suddenly stood up with a swoosh. His face had a hint of solemnity on it, and his eyes flashed with a fierce light. "I wonder which Saint-level expert has come to visit. Please come out for a moment!"

"Saint realm expert?" Ron was stunned. Aside from Wharton, there were no other Saints here.

Hou Meilin smiled and said slowly, "It's that old drunkard, he made his move!"

"It's him?" Ron's eyes fell on the old drunkard who had just bought the wine with twenty gold coins. He rubbed his eyes with a look of disbelief on his face, "He's a Saint realm expert? No matter how you look at it, it doesn't look like it! "

In Ron's eyes, Saint-level experts should be as powerful and domineering as Wharton, as if no one else in the world cared about them. But this old beggar dressed like a drunkard in front of him didn't seem very powerful at all.

The corner of Hou Meilin's mouth twisted, revealing a trace of a smile. "The words' Saint realm expert 'aren't written on his face. That fellow has the ability to restrain his aura. If he didn't make a move, even I might not have been able to see it!"

"I just don't know what his purpose is. If he can help you, you'll be able to escape from this crisis!"

"Are you saying that the old drunkard is stronger than Wharton of the Holy See?"

"You'll see!"

The entire mercenary group stood there quietly, under Wharton's murderous, invisible gaze, the hearts of all the mercenaries began to pound. They didn't even dare to breathe, afraid of angering the Saint-level combatants.

But when he heard that there was a Saint staying behind, he was even more shocked.

Two Saint-level experts!

In Noah Continent, there were many cultivators, but there were only a handful of Saint realm experts. Ordinary cultivators might not see even one in their entire lives, but in the small Kingdom of Barbarian, in a remote mercenary station, two people suddenly appeared.

At first, Diallo hadn't been quite convinced, but when Wharton had shouted out the words' Saint-level expert ', he had immediately lost all of his fighting spirit. He had given Wharton a hundred guts to not dare to fight against a Saint-level expert, and he knew that if the opponent had been willing, that tiny piece of chicken bone would have been enough to take his life.

Diallo quickly moved to the side. In such a situation, even saying a single word would be equivalent to courting death. Diallo was very smart; he wasn't that stupid.

Wharton's gaze slowly swept past the mercenaries. Suddenly, his gaze paused, and his body suddenly tensed up, releasing a surge of killing intent.

"It's you?" Wharton's eyes narrowed. In a low voice, he asked.

"Hehe!" The old drunkard smilingly stood up, patted off the dust on his body, and said to Wharton, "You still recognized me. It's not funny at all!"

The drunkard stood up immediately, a trace of light appearing in his eyes. He straightened his body, looking down at the world with a domineering attitude. He didn't look like he was drunk at all.

Although the old man was dressed in rags, he couldn't conceal his aura of an expert. His hands hung down very naturally, and a faint smile was on his face. Wharton's overbearing, domineering aura was completely unable to affect him.

The Mercenary Station was so quiet that even a pin dropping could be heard. All the mercenaries were stunned. This old man who had been begging for wine for months was actually a Saint realm expert? If not for the fact that they saw it with their own eyes, they would never have believed it.

Some of those who refused to give their money began to feel uneasy.

Wharton's gaze was like a sharp sword, shooting straight towards the old drunkard. Gritting his teeth, he asked word by word, "You … who are …"

He smiled faintly. "My name is — Kobit Ji Bosain." Section error, click on this report (no registration), after reporting the maintenance personnel will correct chapter content within two minutes, please wait patiently, and refresh the page.