Chapter: 1198
It was one thing to be scared and run away from the match. But worse, he was spreading foolish lies and ruining their spirits. That was an act that deserved to be punished.
"I’m speaking the truth, Sir Melling! That person’s strength is immeasurable; I wouldn’t be surprised if he has already reached the level of a grandmaster! We shouldn’t underestimate him!" Joel said seriously.
"The level of a grandmaster? Haha!" Conrad chuckled.
"Young man, you’re sounding more and more outrageous with each passing second! There are only a few who have reached the level of grandmaster in the whole of Balerno! And I’ve never heard of a grandmaster as young as him!"
"Sir Melling="
"That’s enough!"
Joel wanted to continue speaking, but Brutus cut him off curtly.
"Joel, you should rest up if you’re feeling unwell. Stop embarrassing us!"
"Joel, that rascal is almost losing it. Why are you still praising the enemy and putting our side down? What’s the point?" Daniel frowned.
Lexi was shocked when she saw Alan beheaded.
Torres’ ruthlessness was beyond her expectations. Who would have thought that he’d kill someone on a whim?
They didn’t even have any serious conflicts beforehand. The only conflict of interest they shared was who would compete in the match first.
They had no grudge between them and were on the same side. Lexi could not comprehend why Torres would do such a thing.
"It’s your turn now." Torres smirked, sticking his tongue out to lick the blood off his knife.
He looked like a psychopath!
"Why are you doing this? We haven’t got any grudges between us. Why can’t you show us some mercy?" Lexi was terrified.
She struggled with all her might, but as she was paralyzed by the poison, she could not escape.
"I do not need a reason to wipe out you Dragonmarshians, especially talents like you! The more of the likes of you that die, the better! Now, go to hell!" With that, he aimed the knife at Lexi.
Suddenly, a silver needle flew toward Torres from amidst the smoke and accurately hit the blade. The impact sent the knife flying from Torres’ hand and clattering to the ground.
He frowned and looked in the direction where the needle came from. Before him, amidst the smoke, emerged a figure.
It was Dustin!
"Hey, brat! You’re not dead yet?" Torres’ eyes widened, surprised.
After all, the poison he had carefully concocted was one that few could withstand, apart from grandmasters. It was strange to see the man before him unaffected by the poison.
"To be honest, I am immune to all poisons. Your poison does not affect me at all," Dustin said casually.
"No wonder. It seems like I’ve met a fellow practitioner."