Ruined walls and collapsed stone—the sparse holes around the area gave people a sense of the fierce fighting, and the sharp knife marks on the rocks showed that it wasn’t easy. In the middle of the field, Zhen Sulong closed his eyes and recalled the fight at the Colosseum.

‘It isn’t going to be easy.’

At that time, Park Muyeol really appeared like a hero. The wooden sword wielded by the old man no one paid attention to didn’t forgive the enemies in front of it. They would either be beaten by the wooden sword or humiliated by having their hair shaved. There were some funny aspects, but it wasn’t enough to make fun of his swordsmanship.

‘...Stick Sage.’

Now he was called Stick Stage by the people. Park Muyeol grew stronger as he fought. The first time Zhen Sulong saw it, he felt that this person was really crazy. It was like watching a monster grow without limits. Now Park Muyeol was his opponent. Zhen Sulong felt his heart beating faster and he was extremely thrilled. This was the competitive feeling.

[The user ‘Park Muyeol’...