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Xu Guang's face twisted with rage. Since becoming a deacon of the outer sect, he had never suffered such humiliation, especially in front of his peers.
Since he had failed to deal with Liu Wuxie, every deacon would mock him. What enraged him most were Liu Wuxie's parting words, a direct warning that if Xu Guang provoked him again, he would storm into his quarters and sever his head.
"Deacon Xu, why so worked up? He's only a new disciple with no background," one deacon said. "We can send someone else to handle him. Still, he's not simple. To comprehend a mythical art at his age… if we can seize it, all of us will rise in standing within the outer sect."
Their voices sounded calm, but greed lurked beneath every word. Mythical arts belonged only to Primal Origin Realm experts, yet Liu Wuxie had displayed one with ease. The temptation was irresistible.
Xu Guang understood clearly. His fellow deacons wanted him to take the risk, seize Liu Wuxie's mythical art, and then share the spoils with them. He saw through their intentions but kept silent as they stood as equals...
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