The tribe members bothered Yeon-woo with questions all night, full of curiosity because he’d defeated a semi-ranker. Each time someone popped up with a question, he said he was too tired to talk or Edora would push them away.

“If you don’t want to spar with them, then what about me? Don’t you want to try?” Phante jumped up and down in excitement.

“Phante.”

“What’s up?”

“If you don’t want to end up hanging upside down from a tree, shut up.”

“Geez, what a cold hyung-nim.”

Yeon-woo scowled, sick of dealing with him. Every time someone tried to initiate a conversation with him, he felt like dying. Although the Martial King’s potion had helped him recover, much of the damage in his body hadn’t magically disappeared. He had to constantly circulate his mana...