Yang Yan narrowed his eyes for a moment and said to the two of them, "There was an assassin before who was about the same level as you. You are…"
Hearing Yang Yan's words, thick hatred surfaced on both their faces.
The thin man on the right said coldly, "That was our disciple. Today we'll use your blood as a sacrifice to honor his spirit in heaven."
Mo Lian's face was no longer as calm as before; he twisted into a vicious grin. "Why waste words on him? Let's erase him right now, and take his Divine Format while we're at it."
As soon as his voice fell, three figures rushed at Yang Yan in a triangular formation.
"I'll use you lot to practice my moves today. Three Thousand Incarnations!"
Yang Yan snorted coldly. Golden light exploded from his whole body, his fists clenched, his body trembled, and two figures identical to him instantly appeared at his sides.
At first they were somewhat illusory, but very soon they solidified.
"Come then!"
