"Are you Lin Mo?" The old Sect Hierarch's mouth did not open, yet he emitted a hoarse and dry voice, like sanding wood with sandpaper, making it very unpleasant to listen to.
"You're younger than I imagined. So it was you who killed my grandson. You even dare to show yourself today, aren't you afraid of dying?"
Lin Mo's expression remained indifferent, calmly looking at him, not the slightest bit intimidated by the fact that he was the old Sect Hierarch of the Black Witch Sect. He had already slain the Cold Country Sword Saint; what was an old Sect Hierarch who had merely stepped into the realm of an Intermediate Martial God?
"Where are the people from the White Witch Sect?" Lin Mo asked, frowning.
"If you agree to my conditions, I will naturally release the White Witch Sect's people. Indeed, Liao Wen is a pretty girl. You are willing to come here for her, the hero with a tender heart, and beauty is often a disaster," the old Sect Hierarch said.
