Ghost took out his weapon, which was surprisingly a short stick, but with a pull and twist of his hands, there were two clicks, and the short stick turned into a long stick, its shaft shimmering with a cold metallic light.
"You think you're the Great Sage Equalling Heaven just because you have a stick?" Li Wenfeng drew the giant sword from his back, holding it with both hands, and sneered casually.
Ghost's mouth curled slightly, also sneering, "You're wrong, this is just a dog-beating stick, meant for beating dogs."
"Hahaha..." An Ancient Martial Artist couldn't help but burst into laughter, a dog-beating stick—it was indirectly calling Li Wenfeng a dog, wasn't it?
Li Wenfeng's eyes fluctuated violently, but his facial expression did not change much, showing his exceptionally deep scheming and remarkable patience. He raised the giant sword, pointing it remotely at Ghost: "Your mouth is as annoying as Lin Tian's. I hope your skills are as formidable as your words."
