I'm sorry, what?!
Hadjar didn’t get a chance to think about what that message meant. The Master exhaled sharply and swung his sword. Suddenly, a fire sparrow appeared and, leaving a trail of smoke behind it, flew for about forty steps, then crashed into a wall, melting a section of it the size of a tennis ball.
The Prince staggered back and instinctively raised his sword in a defensive position.
Now he saw the Master in a completely different way.
“Are you a Heaven Soldier?!”
After a moment’s silence, the sound of two people laughing rang out. Both the old man in short training pants and the old man in the golden clothes were highly amused.
“No, your Highness,” the Master shook his head. “I just showed you the Mortal Technique.”
The Prince assessed the damage. Perhaps the tennis bal
