The Flame Tyrant

The thirty plus experts came together in front of the corridor from the fifth floor to the sixth floor of the Necropolis of the Gods.

Linley could tell that Olivier’s aura seemed to have changed. In his heart, he couldn’t help but feel astonished. “This Olivier, could it be that he has made another breakthrough?” As the Prodigy Sword Saint, Olivier had needed only twelve years to reach a level where even Haydson was no match for him, rising to the level of being just beneath the Five Prime Saints.

This rate of improvement was very terrifying.

Now that another eight years had passed, it would be strange if Olivier hadn’t improved, actually.

Desri looked at Hayward and the twenty other experts, then said loudly, “You should know the situation on the sixth floor. The ten of us will be responsible for dealing with the Flame Tyrant. As for the rest of you, your responsibilities will be lighter. As long as you can stay alive, go search for the exit to the seventh floor.”