"Hey!" With a scream, Han Yang retreats and retreats, and the gray airflow in the body seems to know this FuJian buhaore, trying to avoid confrontation with it.
"I can’t go!" Mr. Qian shot seven spells from his arms with a loud drink. The seven spells landed accurately on the route Han Yang was preparing to evacuate, which sealed off all his retreat. "Excalibur!" Golden FuJian indomitable into…