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No matter how strong you are, you won't be able to defeat him

Zeynor sneered as he watched Azazel's cleverness, his eyebrows furrowing as he yearned to tear the man's body apart.

The screams inside the building grew louder. Several sect members attempting to flee lay dead by the door, their corpses creating an almost impassable barrier.

"Do you not feel any pity for the people in this sect? They die in vain. You people with wild desires should help each other..."

"Don't joke. I don't care about any of them! I'd rather be a leader than follow their wishes. I hate being controlled..."

His words seemed to imply that everything he desired was justified.

Until now, Azazel couldn't understand why fools always gained the power to bully the weak. With such power, the world would undoubtedly become worse.

"If you're so special, why don't you just give me a much better challenge?" asked Azazel.

Zeynor became provoked, readying himself with his right hand tightly gripping his sword.

"I'll strike him with one blow, and it will all be over..."

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