"Damn that horn!" Yanyan cursed, but neither his hands nor his feet lagged behind. He and the High Priest traded blows back and forth, each waiting to see who would crack first.
"Damn it!" the High Priest cursed right back.
Fists fear the young and vigorous; if he were a few decades younger and his vitality was at its peak, he would have long since rubbed this young punk's face in the mud.
Chapter 397