The empty hall was filled with people.
The atmosphere was not light but solemn.
There will be a great war and no one dares to take it lightly.
"Did I say it looks familiar?"
Mo Xuan held the wine gourd and stared at Fang Fang, looking again and again.
Over there, there was an old man with unkempt hair and a slovenly appearance.
Regardless of appearance, he is still quite eye-catching in the palace.
Why do you say this? Because the supreme beings present were either sitting on chairs or in clouds, but he was the only one holding an iron sword, leaning under the stone pillar, dozing off. Every time he breathed, there was something outside the sky. Thunder and lightning.
"Who is he?" Wu Dao asked softly.
"Master Wuliang." Mo Xuan spoke slowly.
Chapter end
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