Like a cat smelling fish, Mo Hua felt all his pores start to tremble slightly. He couldn't help but murmur softly:
"Divine… Descent…"
Though his voice was light, it was still noticed by Yan Zhu, who outwardly had been "ignoring" Mo Hua but internally was always paying attention to him.
Including Mo Hua's faint surprise and odd expression, this did not escape Yan Zhu's keen perception.
Yan Zhu smirked disdainfully, "What's this? This 'Shaman Sir' doesn't know about the Divine Descent?"
Usually, even if Mo Hua didn't know, he would pretend to, to maintain the face of a "Shaman."
But this time was different.
Mo Hua was like a cat mesmerized by a fish, couldn't help but nod: "I don't know, can you tell me about it?"
Yan Zhu was taken aback, not expecting Mo Hua to be so straightforward, and then sneered:
"What? Your 'Divine Lord' hasn't even told you about this? And you have the nerve to call yourself a shaman?"
Mo Hua said nothing, silently enduring Yan Zhu's sarcasm.
