บท 747: Fierce Battle 3

Holy Fist Palace.

Garen suddenly opened his eyes.

"It's time."

He looked towards Tu Lan, who was sitting in the same position beside him.

"Go. I will compensate you for what you're worth."

"Are you sure?" Tu Lan let out a breath, shook his head in annoyance, and stood up, "Forget it, I'll be generous this time."

She slowly walked out of the quiet room and towards the direction of her residence.

Garen sat alone in the quiet room. His expression was indifferent. His gently stroked the chessboard, thinking.

"It's getting closer, and closer now," BlacK Sethe's voice was low. His voice seldom came up lately. He was not like before, where he was very chatty. Instead, he had become more and more silent, as if his every word was like gold.