Chapitre 450: The King of Fire Carps

After having returning to the small temple at the back of White Town, the Young Zen Master wiped off the beads of sweat on his forehead with his sleeve.

"Thank you for your hard work," the deep and broken voice rang out again.

"I didn't use too much energy for beating up such a little child."

The Young Zen Master turned around and saw the messy pile of sticks outside the doorsill, shaking his head; he was about to bend down to pick up those sticks.

The movement worsened the injury inside his body.

Whoa!!!

The blood spat out like mist from his mouth, coloring the doorsill and those thin sticks.

It became as deathly quiet as a graveyard in the small temple. The Broadsword King didn't say a word.

After a long moment, the Young Zen Master straightened his body slowly and looked in the direction of the deep part of the snowland, exhaling a sigh with the complicated expression.