Even though other forces in the square had some complaints and dissatisfaction in their hearts, no one dared to say anything because of the lessons learned from the past.
Gusts of cold wind blew, and black flags fluttered.
Liam Zhao folded his hands, hammered his sword on the ground, and looked at all the warriors in the square. His black eyes revealed majesty and indifference, showing his kingly demeanor.
Wherever his eyes passed, everyone's heart seemed to skip a beat, and they subconsciously lowered their heads, not daring to look him in the eye.
There was an inviolable dignity about him.
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