On the border of the Xyndaros Genesis World, James and the others gathered around a bonfire, enjoying themselves with drinks and lively conversation. A few female living beings danced around the fire, swayed by the cajoling of Adair and Wylie.

After clinking glasses with James, Truett gulped down his drink and glanced at the absent-minded Yancy.

“Are you still with us, Sir Yancy?” Truett chuckled.

Yancy’s face twitched as he looked at James. “Master, is... is Gladwin really coming?”

“He probably will,” James laughed. “Of course, if he has a chance to explain things to the Javerigh Sect, he might bring his army. Then, it’ll inevitably be another bloody battle.”

At this, Yancy’s hand trembled, and his wine glass slipped into the fire.

James sneered upon seeing him lose his composure. “What’s the matter, are you scared?”

“He is a Quasi Daelcon Rank powerhouse,” Yancy said with a bitter face. “Master, why do we have to provoke such a transcendent powerhouse?”

“We’re not the ones