"Lucas, if you wanted the battleground to be here, why didn't you say it from the start?" An Old man glared coldly at Lucas Dawson.
"Which one of you old hermits will willingly come here with the thought of probably dying?" Lucas asked the man calmly.
"Mind your words, boy." The Old man stood up, clearly angered by Lucas's words.
"Am I wrong?" Lucas looked at the Old man, not feeling any fear even when facing someone that's well over ten thousand years older, "During the great war, we all know that there are some who didn't fight because they were afraid to die, and then there are the ones who joined the Gnomes to wipe us out, because they too were afraid to die."
The faces of some of the Old men in the place turned cold, and the experts on their level could sense the pressure in the air due to the auras of multiple Half-God experts almost exploding out.
"Lucas, what is the reason you brought us all here?" An Old man asked calmly.