Upon learning that his master was an Elder of the Wangxian Pavilion,
Little Ziyue still spoke so discourteously, which further fueled the rage within the richly dressed man.
One of the ten great Sacred Lands, the Wangxian Pavilion, a top-notch force beyond the first-rate of Heavenly Gang, was one of the few entities in the Human Clan capable of contending with the Ancient Royal Family.
One could imagine just how lofty the status of the Wangxian Pavilion truly was.
Yet today, a little girl around ten dared to speak so disrespectfully, how could it be tolerated?
"May I ask which great family's disciples do you all belong to?" The elder didn't strike out right away, his heart still harboring a trace of wariness.
After all, Mo Wangchen's move just then was truly surprising; at just twelve years old, he possessed the cultivation of the seventh heaven in the Saint Venerable Realm, a talent not easily nurtured by ordinary forces.
