The sword master rushed forward and stopped the god of war.
At the same time, he went to check on the injury of the little boxing king Mo Wuya.
“Wuya, are you okay?”
The Sword Master helped Mo Wuya up from the ground.
Mo Wuya was filled with grievances and pushed the sword master away violently, spitting out the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Leave me alone, I can’t die!”
After finishing speaking, Mo Wuya squatted in the corner alone and secretly wiped away tears.
When the sword master saw this, he didn’t know what to say.
He had to turn around and go over to blame the God of War.
“Lao Ye, look at what you did.”
“Why don’t you quickly say a nice word to Wuya.”
The God of War was still angry: “Good words? What good words?”
“A majestic Yanxia Zhuguo, one of the masters of the Martial Arts Temple, went to drink with the son of a worldly person, and humbled himself to beg this second-generation ancestor. Are you proud?”
“It is simply an insult to my Yanxia Martial Arts!”
“It’s an insult to my Yanxia title!”
The God of War scolded angrily.
When Mo Wuya heard this, he undoubtedly felt even more aggrieved.
In order to help the warriors strive for benefits and gain more chances of survival, it was fine not to be praised, but instead to be blamed.
This immediately made Mo Wuya greatly frustrated, feeling that his efforts could not achieve recognition.
“Okay, okay, I don’t care anymore.”