The middle-aged man remained silent after listening to the furious retorts of the Indonesian martial artist.
With his hands folded behind his back and his eyes staring straight ahead, he appeared not to have seen the crowd as he walked right past them.
Such complete disregard infuriated the Indonesian martial artists.
Compared to hurling profanities at them, utter and complete disregard was the worse insult.
They flew into a rage instantly.
"Who are you to ignore us?"
"Did your elders not teach you manners?"
"Let us teach you how to be a proper grown-up then!â
The furious roars of the Indonesian martial artists filled the air. An icy wind howled suddenly and rushed at them with the force of a storm. A storm that rained swords instead of rain.
A loud metallic sound pierced the air.
The four Indonesian martial artists collapsed to the ground soundlessly. They hadn't even had the chance to scream.
Around their necks was a wound that resembled a cut made by a sword.
Their heads rolled away. Blood spurted from their necks.
They didn't even have time to show fear on their faces before dying.
Everything had happened too quickly.
So quickly, they hadn't had the time to feel fear.
So quickly, the human eye had not been able to catch what had happened.
In fact, so quickly, that no one had managed to attempt a dodge before heads began to roll.
Everyone was instantly stupefied.
Silence descended.
The earlier commotion vanished without a trace.
Like a tape recorder that broke down in the middle of a song, all sound was suddenly silenced.
Left in its wake were gaping mouths and faces filled with shock.
What incredible speed!
The stranger's attack had been unleashed with incredible, lightning speed.
Before anyone could have made a move, the four Indonesian martial artists' heads had rolled off their necks.
The shocking sight and the stranger's merciless attack had everyone shivering with fear.
All of a sudden, the ordinary looking man transformed into something mysterious and terrifying in everyone's eyes.
Kong Ming and the others stared at him with fear and awe.
A fatal strike always came unexpectedly and suddenly!
The man had not said another word since he had appeared before them.
But the four corpses at his feet spoke volumes.
The bloody scene and his violent methods had surpassed that of Ye Fan's.
"Grandmaster! He's a grandmaster too! Only a grandmaster can kill so many martial artists within a blink of an eye,â gasped someone in the crowd after a long moment of silence.
The man who spoke pointed at the stranger in alarm and fear.
"Grandmaster? Well, I suppose that's all losers like you know."
Sounds of laughter rang out from the forest and stirred everyone from their shocked stupor.
They turned their heads and were greeted with the sight of Reilo and his comrades, still injured, as they finally arrived outside the cave.
"Reilo, is that you? What did you mean by that?" retorted the man whom Reilo had mocked openly.
Reilo merely snorted and ignored him. He couldn't be bothered to deal with someone of little importance.
He looked up and stared at the cave ahead of them. Before the cave stood Ye Fan, who had a dark look on his face. Reilo smiled.
"So, this scoundrel is here as well. That's great. That'll save us some time. We'll make sure he never leaves this place again," muttered Reilo to himself. Malice and hate glimmered brightly in his eyes.
He stepped forward and arrived next to the middle-aged man in gray robes. Then, he pointed at Ye Fan. "Indra, that's him. He's Ye Fan, the Chinese martial artist I told you about. He's the one who killed our martial artists and robbed us of our spirit energy fruits. Now, he's here to steal the treasure on the island. He should be killed, Indra! Please seize this opportunity and kill him. Please avenge the deaths of our fellow comrades!" urged Reilo, his loud pleas reverberating in the air.
He cupped his fists and fell to his knees as he kowtowed the man before him.
Like a general defeated on the battlefield, he was pleading his king to send more troops to save him and his men.
Reilo was not the only man doing so.
The few Indian martial artists who had survived the fight with Ye Fan stepped forward, one by one, cupping their fists and kowtowing as well. Their voices rose to the heavens.
Indra, please kill him!â
"Please slay him, Indra!"
Their pleading cries and sorrowful words rushed to the skies and filled the air.
The middle-aged man finally looked up and studied the young man standing before the cave. His voice sounded cold when he spoke.
"Are you Ye Fan, the Chinese martial artist who hurt my people and stole my country's treasure? I didn't expect you to be so young. It appears that the Chinese martial arts circle has found itself a few budding prodigies," said the man with a mirthless smile.
His words dripped with disdain and condescension.
He had been acting high and mighty since he had first appeared.
It was as if he viewed the others such as Ye Fan and Kong Ming as ants that were beneath his notice and could easily crush.
Ye Fan's veneer of calm was of a different shade. There was a solemn look in his eyes.
He could tell that the man before him was a threat.
It had been a long while since he had felt this way. Few people made him feel like that.
One of them was the most powerful god in Japan, Tsukuyomi.
The other was the strongest martial artist in China, Ye Qing-Tian.
Naturally, Yu Yun, who was currently deep in her training trance in the cave, was one of them as well.
It was clear that the new arrival was incredibly powerful.
"Fan!"
Angie could sense the terrifying power emanating from the stranger. Her face paled and the smile on it vanished without a trace. Her small hands clutched tightly at Ye Fan's sleeve in fear.
Worried that the stranger might launch an attack at him unexpectedly, Ye Fan pushed Angie behind him.
He stared the stranger in the eye dispassionately. "Who are you?"
The man shook his head and approached Ye Fan steadily with a smile on his face.
"That's hardly important. All you need to know is that you're going to die by my hand today. I'm not going to be too hard on a young man though. I'll give you the chance to die in one piece instead of being ripped apart. Consider that a favor to Ye Qing-Tian as well."
With a soft laugh, he sent his foot smashing into the ground.
A loud humming resounded in the air.
Before anyone knew what was happening, a sword shot out of the hands of one martial artist and, as if summoned, flew straight into the hand of the stranger.
He threw the sword at Ye Fan's feet.
"Take that sword and kill yourself."
A Dish Best Served Cold (The Man In Rage)
ï¤Chapter 1309 A Mysterious Arrival Awake for Love: My Coma Bridegroom ï¤Chapter 664 Rating the Translation Will Gain Two Pearls.