"You're not my match; I'll give you two choices: follow me or die!"
Xu Zhenzi, disheveled and bruised in several places on his face, was a formation genius defeated by someone just four or five years younger. Despite his main focus being formations, he felt a fiery embarrassment.
Shameful!
Losing to a young man not yet twenty, how could Xu Zhenzi concede?
This young man now wanted to make him a follower, threatening death if he refused.
"I know what you're thinking, feeling ashamed to follow me, right?" The young man looked at Xu Zhenzi, seemingly able to see through his thoughts.
"You're right, I, Xu Zhenzi, am a formation genius. The opportunities in this cave belong to me. There might be someone I would follow, but it's definitely not you," Xu Zhenzi said.
Bam.
The young man immediately kicked, sending Xu Zhenzi rolling away.
"Do you think I just have more strength than you?"
