C89

The killing intent in Li Dao's heart soared uncontrollably, even though he was obviously no match for his opponent.

The longsword was the foundation of his life. To be able to bring him through all the realms of heaven, how could he tolerate others peeping at him?

Right now, Li Dao was in a dilemma. This kind of situation was something he had never expected.

He was in the entire True Sect, while the other side had the advantage of numbers. He was weak on his own.

Moreover, this was the world of wuxia martial artists. There was the existence of inner strength, so his three-legged sword art was definitely not a match for Zhao Zhijing.

Even a fool could understand what Zhao Zhijing meant by his expression.

The fat Daoist shouted, "You little brat, don't you know how to appreciate favors. Are you hesitating because you're afraid that my master will swallow your sword?"

The other daoists wearing sky blue Daoist robes also began threatening Li Dao. Only the younger daoists had faces full of anger and did not say anything. It was obvious that they were not satisfied with his master and his fellow disciples.

"This sword belongs to my family, I beg your pardon, but I cannot agree to your request."

Li Dao spoke neither humbly nor arrogantly, but the killing intent in his heart had already rushed to the top of his head.

After Li Dao said this, the main hall became quiet for a moment. These people clearly did not expect Li Yao to refuse Zhao Zhijing's request.

The eyes of the originally angry little Daoist brightened up and began to re-evaluate Li Dao.

At this moment, Zhao Zhijing's face was extremely gloomy, so dark that even drops of water could be seen dripping from it.

The fat Daoist was very observant and scolded, "Brat, do you know who my master is? Are you tired of living?"

As he said this, he even drew out his sword. The other Daoists also drew their swords. Only Zhao Zhijing did not draw his sword, while the smaller daotong did not have one. He was clearly different from his fellow apprentices.

"Ha ha-ha ha, so you're full of truth, is that what you deserve?"

Li Dao suddenly laughed out loud. His laughter resounded outside the hall. This was something he had done on purpose in order to attract others to him.

"What are you laughing at? Don't you know how to write the word 'dead'?"

A plump Taoist might have had good eyesight and was flattering enough, but his IQ was obviously not enough.

Li Dao sneered and asked, "Is this how the entire True Sect acts?" Back then, Patriarch Duo Yang was such a hero, but now, he has such a pathetic disciple! "

"You said that I'm a vile character?" Zhao Zhijing said. His sinister eyes locked onto Li Dao like a venomous snake. It seemed that he would launch an attack in the next moment.

"Yes sir!"

Li Dao held his chest up high and looked straight at Zhao Zhijing.

"Kid, if you don't tell me why you came here today, I will make you feel worse than death." Zhao Zhijing's sinister eyes flashed with a cold light.

"I travelled thousands of miles to come here to seek a master and learn from her. It's one thing for you not to accept her, but you even asked me for her possessions, is this what Wang Zhong Yang taught you? Seeing that I have no money, and have openly demanded my family heirloom sword, and have even allowed my disciple to threaten me, if it is not a lowly person, then what is? "

Li Dao did not want to endure any longer. As long as he could attract the seven true disciples, he believed that he would be able to pass this trial on his own.

Zhao Zhijing was shameless and despicable. He had seen how vicious and insidious Zhao Zhijing was. It was unlikely that people like him would act like him.

"Do you know that you are courting death?" Veins popped out from Zhao Zhijing's forehead. No one had ever said such a thing to him.

He, Zhao Zhijing, was the most outstanding disciple among the third generation. Usually, he would hear flattery from others.

Noticing that Zhao Zhijing was about to make a move, Li Dao gripped the long sword in his hand tightly.

"Brother Li is right. Zhao Zhijing, you're a sinister villain who doesn't care about face."

The daotong without a sword in his hand spoke. His voice was crisp and clear, about twelve or thirteen years old.

"You traitor, shut your mouth."

At this moment, Zhao Zhijing was on the verge of going berserk. Even his disciple was attacking him, how could he continue to do this? Although he had only accepted this disciple for a few days.

"Yangguo, haven't you had enough of being taught a lesson? Hurry up and kneel down to apologize to your master." The fat Daoist turned his sword towards the Taoist boy called Yang Tun.