Chapter 141 Chapter 138 Quarrel
Beowulf lifted his mask, revealing a neat golden beard. Compared to the tense soldiers around him, whose faces were somewhat enamored by Jima, he was upright and devoid of any emotion.
He was completely immune to the extraordinary charm radiating from Jima.
With his hands tightly gripping the holy sword, its blade glistening white, and golden strokes outlining exquisite runes in the blade slot, his stance was like that of a roof-raising sword, looking as if he were about to rush forward and cleave Jima in two.
What a load of unexpected yet predictable nonsense.
Jima’s gaze was fixed on the massive sword in Beowulf’s hands, filled with disdain.
“Are you the succubus that caused chaos in both cities?” Beowulf pointed at Jima and said, “I won’t thank you for giving me the opportunity to catch up to George and defeat him. Because without you, others would have delayed him as well.”
George raised his shield and said, “If I remember correctly, you never won against me in the arena. How can you call me your defeated opponent?”
“Superficial, kid.” Beowulf pointed at George: “If an individual’s brute violence in a one-on-one arena can determine overall strength, then the champion warrior of the Blood God would be a strong contender among the chosen heroes.
“My will is more resolute than yours, my faith is purer than yours, and I am far more righteous
