What! The Wives in My Dreams Are Real? novel Chapter 1195

1195 /1286

Wuliang Hall was indeed a warlike Divine Pact, but that didn’t guarantee victory every time. Otherwise they wouldn’t be a second-tier force in the Northern Divine Realm—they’d be the strongest Pact outright. Hong Zhencheng’s worries were therefore not unfounded.

By the usual rules, the weak survive under the wing of the strong—but Ye Yu was no ordinary adherent. In truth, Hong Zhencheng was the stronger of the two.

Watching Hong Zhencheng’s eyes brighten with that familiar gleam of “genius,” Ye Yu knew this brat was about to stir up trouble again.

“Damn it!” Ye Yu instinctively raised his hand to stop him—but Hong Zhencheng moved faster, revealing himself fully and shouting at the top of his lungs:

Pu ni amu!

“Pawns of the Funeral Pact, halt at once! Grandpa Zhencheng and Grandpa Ye Yu are going to slaughter you all!”

That thunderous declaration, amplified by divine power, echoed across the battlefield. Every deity present shuddered and turned to see who dared speak so recklessly at the Funeral Pact’s moment of triumph.

They all froze in disbelief. Had the age changed? How could a mere mid-Divine God Realm cultivator stand up and shout such things? Where had he found the nerve?

Zengtian, the ruthless brute of the Funeral Pact, cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he studied Ye Yu’s companion. The dozen or so Wuliang Hall deities who recognized Hong Zhencheng quickly closed ranks around him—after all, they were comrades. None expected Hong Zhencheng to be so bold as to rant like this in front of so many.

“Brother, you’ve got guts!” one called out in admiration.

Hong Zhencheng beamed, chest swelling with pride. “Thanks to the High God, I can show off like this!”

He cocked an eyebrow at Ye Yu. “High God, what are you going to do now?”

Ye Yu lowered his hand and, suppressing his exasperation, replied, “Nothing.”

At that moment, all eyes—both from the Funeral Pact and Wuliang Hall—focused on the two of them. They had become the center of attention, the obvious targets.

Admittedly, Hong Zhencheng was born to be a warrior. Every time he opened his mouth to taunt, it wound up succeeding—last time against a single target, this time with an area-wide provocation. Was he leveling up his mockery skills?