Lord Of Martial Arts

"Sir, I have been so blind. I didn't know that you are so powerful. Please spare my life," he said humbly, giving Tyrone a frightened look.

"Sutton, stand up!" roared the old man. "A real warrior would rather die than kneel down to beg for his life!" He scowled to see his disciple kneeling before someone else, feeling both angry and anxious.

"Master, I want to live," Sutton said, pleading like a child. His face was white with fear.

The old man was furious. "You're useless!" he snapped.

A minute passed, and Darren sensed that the old man's real body was about to arrive.

"Ah, a man of the noble Immortal God race kneels down before me!" said Tyrone, shaking his head. "That shadow is right. You are useless. It's a waste for you to continue living."

He glanced at Darren, who nodded.

Tyrone lifted his sword. Sutton realized what was about to happen, and in his final moment, h

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ew in his heart. His face turned pale.

A supreme creature like the dragon was much more sacred in the Immortal God race than in the Primitive Wilderness.

The dragon was even superior to emperors! They worshipped it devoutly.

In the faith of the Immortal God race, a genuine dragon was the equivalent of the gods and immortals of the mortal world.

'This guy is just a reclusive cultivator! How did he come by this dragon aura?'

the old man wondered. After a moment, he told himself, 'It must be some sort of trick or illusion. Don't panic.' The dragon, made of sword intent, was a brilliant snow-white in color.

Darren had added his god's power to it.

Unfortunately, maybe because he was currently in another person's body, the fusion degree of his god's power and sword intent was less than one in a trillion. As a result, the effect of increasing the attacking power was limited.