Seeing that black arm, Wuxiang's heart suddenly startled.
Upon it, he sensed an aura not inferior to his own. The arm's design suggested it had mostly been crafted into a tool by a craftsman.
"What is this person's identity? Wuxiang Valley hasn't been at odds with anyone recently, right?"
But though he pondered, Wuxiang's motions didn't stop for an instant. As the Sect Master of Wuxiang Valley, although he was aged, he was still a genuine Martial Arts Grandmaster.
Over more than ten thousand years, he had fought countless battles. Merely a single arm couldn't intimidate him; such an attempt was the fool's dream.
Yet before he could strike, he saw Richard's figure flash, vanishing within the Scripture House.
"Fighting a big battle in the Scripture House? You don't care about the damage, but I do, so come out and fight!"
