"Is that him?"
Upon recognizing the figure at the base of the mountain, Amotig couldn't help but stiffen, his aged face etched with surprise. I hadn't expected this Easterner, this Chen Fei, to be so young. The satellite images hadn't captured his face clearly, so I didn't notice this detail before.
"Magician Sir, is that the man who dares to challenge our Crimson Fang? Please allow me to fight. I only need one hand to twist off his arm," said the burly-faced old man standing beside Amotig, his voice laced with malice after a long silence.
"Do you think you're more formidable than Old Bat?" Amotig replied, shooting him a cold glance that made the burly-faced man's expression freeze.
"My apologies, Magician Sir."
