The Spell's Range Covers the Entire Territory of China? Hand It Over to the Nation

87: Chapter 87 Drunk and Sleeping in Jingyang, His Spirit Swallows Mountains; His Fist Shatters the Golden Body and Slays the Tiger.In an instant, not only were the Western viewers stunned, but even the common people of Dragon Summer were bewildered.

”This... who is this?”

”Didn’t they say they were going to choose a fierce warrior? Why did a drunkard come up?”

”That outfit, that staff... Holy crap! Wait! Is that a Sentry Staff?! Jingyang Ridge?!”

Someone finally realized, and their scalp instantly tingled with excitement.

”Wu Erlang! This is Wu Song!”

”Hahahaha! I remember now! I was wondering why he looked so familiar! The big boss actually invited him out!”

”This is the perfect professional match! When it comes to fighting lions and tigers, he’s the Ancestral Master!”

The people of Dragon Summer, who were feeling uncertain just moments ago, suddenly became joyful. Isn’t this the story we’ve heard countless times in storytelling since we were kids? No matter what Western Divine Beast you are, once you step onto the one-third of an acre of land that is Jingyang Ridge, if you’re a Dragon, you’d better coil up, and if you’re a tiger or a lion, you’d better stay down!

But the foreigners didn’t understand.

The Western survivors looked at the man on the arena who was so drunk he couldn’t even walk straight, and a sense of absurdity rose in their hearts.

”This is Dragon Summer’s trump card? An alcoholic vagrant?”

”It seems Dragon Summer has truly run out of people, sending a drunkard up to die. Are they trying to make the Nemean Lion die of laughter?”

”Is that wooden stick for picking teeth? My God, this is simply a farce!”

In the projection atop Olympus, the gods also let out contemptuous sneers.

In their eyes, Dragon Summer was acting out of desperation, sending a Mortal drunkard who couldn’t even walk straight to his death.

On the arena.

The Nemean Lion was also made to sneeze by the strong smell of alcohol. It lowered its massive head, its dark-gold beastly pupils staring intently at the tiny biped before it.

In its perception, this person had no fluctuations of Divine Power, let alone any high-level aura that would make it wary. This was just a walking piece of meat; perhaps even more flavorful because it was soaked in alcohol.

”Roar!”

The lion didn’t intend to waste time.

Its back legs kicked off suddenly, its massive body turning into a streak of dark-gold lightning, pouncing straight at Wu Song with a suffocating wind pressure!

If this pounce landed solidly, let alone a human, even a main battle tank would be flattened into a pancake.

”Watch out!” Countless viewers instinctively covered their eyes.

Yet the drunkard seemed not to see the bloody maw coming at him at all. He was still staring at the empty bowl in his hand, seemingly annoyed that the wine was gone.

Just as the lion’s sharp claws were less than half a meter from his head.

”So noisy...”

The drunkard frowned, his face full of impatience.

Without seeing him exert any effort, his originally swaying body suddenly slid to the side in an eerie manner.

This slide was like a loach entering water—slippery and impossible to catch.

Boom!

The giant lion pounced on empty air, its two sharp claws slamming into the ground, creating two deep, bottomless pits in the arena as rubble flew everywhere.

Meanwhile, the drunkard was now standing crookedly at the lion’s side, still holding the empty bowl, looking at the massive creature with a face full of disdain.

”Where did this Big Worm come from... making such a filthy and stinking mess?”

He let out a wine-scented hiccup and casually shouldered the Sentry Staff that looked like it could break at any moment.

”Hey, you lot over there.”

Wu Song squinted, pointing at the phantom images of the Western gods above. Regardless of whether they understood him, he shouted at the top of his lungs:

”The wine is gone. Go and sieve two more bowls for your Grandpa!”

”Otherwise...”

He paused, and the originally cloudy drunkenness in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a heart-stopping ferocity and Evil Qi.

That was the gaze belonging only to the Heavenly Harm Star, one who had killed, drunk blood, and crawled out from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

”Grandpa will skin this Big Worm to pay for his wine!”

The Western gods were stunned.

Pay for wine?

Skin it?

Is this your attitude toward a mythological creature?

”Arrogance!”