Yang Fei noticed that among the captured people, there were no Mad Blade, Fan Yi, or the Three Swords, and he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
The face of the burly River Beaver was full of mockery.
"Mr. Yang Fei, let me reintroduce myself, the Great Protector of the Witch Clan's Fire Gate, River Beaver, at your service."
As he spoke, he stood up, bones cracking loudly, a column of Essence Qi rising from his head, tangible and substantial.
The intense burning sensation made Yang Fei's skin sting with pain.
Yang Fei's eyes narrowed as he spoke coldly.
"So you were hiding your strength, a True Martial Master, I apologize for underestimating you."
River Beaver laughed heartily: "Isn't it true that Mr. Yang and your comrades were hiding your strength?"
"You just never dreamed that the Great White Bear Mercenaries were actually an armed force controlled by our Witch Clan's Fire Gate, did you?"
Yang Fei nodded: "Indeed, I didn't see that coming."
