C947

The iron boots stepped in.

Finally, he stood in front of Mu Zhaer.

The person looked down at him condescendingly. A bloodstained dagger was spinning in his hand. Blood dripped down the tip of the dagger and onto the ground. Some of the blood even dripped onto Mu Zhaer's face and the tiger skin.

The blood was still warm!

Sticky on the face.

Mu Zhaer didn't even blink