Not long ago, they once said that having the ancient scroll in Qin Wentian’s hands was the equivalent to wasting a great gift on a piece of trash. If Qin Wentian didn’t hand over that scroll, he would be slaughtered.
But now, Qin Wentian was returning those words right back. The tornado devoured the body of the black-faced, middle-aged man, after which Qin Wentian made a grasping motion and then the interspatial ring and shadow lance flew into his hands.
The treasures of a fourth-ranked Grandmaster should be extremely valuable, he had made a killing this time.