The Art Of Chaos

"Me?" Joey looked at the young woman and the middle-aged man in disbelief.

"That's right, boy, you've done it. As long as you can accept the inheritance again, it's fine." The middle-aged man seemed extremely impatient, and seemed to be unwilling to delay, wanting to leave this place they had brought for tens of thousands of years as soon as possible.

"Inheritance?" Joey's expression became strange. The inheritance of that mysterious and powerful existence?

The corner of the young woman's mouth curled into an arc: "Yes, as long as you can pass the environmental test of the Ice Cicada at the door, you are eligible to accept the inheritance."

After saying that, the phantom of the young woman turned into a green light and was retracted into the dagger. The middle-aged man also returned to the sword. The two short knives floated in mid-air, slowly flew towards Joey, and circled around Joey's body.