Chapter 245: Creation (Requesting Monthly Votes)

Zhao Xu gazed coldly at the canopy, a faint mocking curve lifting his lips.

At that moment, a shadow flickered inside the tent, whispering, “Your Majesty, what is it?”

Zhao Xu slowly sat up and pointed at the canopy; the shadow immediately said, “I’ll go check—”

Before he could finish, a faint hissing sound came from above—the oxhide canopy was pierced, and countless silver flashes shot in.

The shadow’s hand appeared with a cloak-like object.

Below, the people bowed their heads, daring not to look at the demonic immortal on the seat, especially the two demon kings who had returned from the Battle of Lishan.

So at this moment, those who greeted Xu Yang couldn’t help but ask if he was selling lunch.

He seized the South Sea Crocodile God’s giant shears, whipped them backward, and struck the Crocodile God’s back, sending him flying like a kicked ball.

“Yes, I know a little. Whether it can be broken, you can try.” Lin Fan nodded.

“But he’s already given his word—how can you still stay here?” Xue Lingyun asked coolly.

Before today, Qin Jue might have hesitated upon hearing those words. But after seeing his skills, he felt more at ease knowing he was with them.

His reasoning was quite sound: Lin Chen’s strength was astonishing—even stronger than his own—and yet he was so young, which meant his identity was extraordinary. Thus, Lin Chen must possess some unknown, formidable techniques.

The moment he spoke, the atmosphere at the banquet table turned eerie. Although Afei’s voice was low, every person present was a powerhouse—they heard every word clearly.

The physician’s estimate of a fifty-fifty chance brought him some relief; at least it was more reassuring than Mo Suifeng’s one-in-ten odds, and his mind now worked better than before.

“Rudenberg, I want to know where your confidence comes from,” Marshal Hindenburg asked, his voice commanding without raising it.

As for the six- to seven-inch side, despite Yan Wei’s assistance, they still struggled terribly against the powerful Darkblood Slaves.

Zi Xuan knew that if the Empress Dowager refused to leave the palace, her friends could offer no help—but seeing the Prince of Jin so heartbroken made her own heart ache.

“Yes!” The medic, as a member of the special forces, possessed a nine-hole wise heart—he knew exactly what to say and what not to say.

Chen Feng hadn’t even had time to argue further or check the mission details before the Black Lotus whisked him away—no teleportation array needed.

“Please, Master Physician, use your miraculous hands—no matter what, save my sister!” Guan Zheng knelt with a thud, pleading before Hua Tuo.

Minleyuan, as its name suggests, is a public entertainment venue—the result of the National Revolution’s abolition of imperial power and promotion of civilian consciousness.

“Meiweis, do you two know each other?” Xuan Yuan Qingshan asked, baffled.

In the Elder Hall of the Sword Fortress, all high-ranking members—including several elders who had been in seclusion for years—appeared. Every face bore a gloom, their gazes cold enough to devour men alive.

As he entered the shop, Manager Deng was escorting a client out; spotting Su Zhan, he hurried over warmly to greet him—prompting Su the Young Master to frantically blink at Manager Deng.

The forked tongue hissed, spewing blazing firelight that bathed the dark cavern in crimson, the air crackling with sparks.

Stepping into the clouds, all was white and misty; with only naked eyes, visibility extended less than fifty meters, giving the sense that the drifting fog concealed lethal danger.

Andy gripped quarterback Eli Manning’s arms, looking at his still-boyish face, and earnestly encouraged him.

Seeing Sun Zhengyi’s expression, Fang Zhe grew more certain of his earlier guess—he had been wondering all along what Sun Zhengyi’s purpose was in meeting him.