It wasn't as if Aoxue had never tasted defeat.
On the contrary, he had been humiliated in countless battles throughout his life.
However, all those defeats had co at the hands of inner disciples—the absolute elite of the central region, prodigies of legendary talent.
Aoxue was an arrogant and narcissistic man, soone who took genuine pleasure in humiliating others.
Unfortunately for him, he lived in a land where few were worth humiliating, for even his talent, remarkable anywhere else, was rely average there.
It was precisely because of this relative diocrity that they had sent him here, a decision that had left him imnsely satisfied.
He wanted to dominate the arena, crush his enemies underfoot, and be revered by the won as the undisputed star of the tournant.
Aoxue turned his face slightly, his eyes sweeping over the crowd surrounding the arena.
About twenty beauties were gathered in the arena, each one a peerless beauty, capable of bringing empires to their knees with a single smile.
Yet not a single one of them cast even a fleeting glance in his direction.
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