Han Linqiu, a well-educated man with deep literary cultivation, was used to nourishing his spirit through the arts. Upon hearing the cultivator's words, he couldn't help but pause slightly. He thought he had misheard. "You say… we are brutal?"0

The cultivator, struggling to contain his fear, gritted his teeth and said, "If this isn't brutality, then what is it? You've slaughtered thousands of innocent people here without hesitation!"0

Han Linqiu was taken aback. "We tried reasoning with you, but you insisted on turning these people into pills, and now... you're lecturing us on morality?"0

Wang Yi spoke calmly. "Don't waste time arguing with him. I've practiced the sword for years and seen people like him countless times. If your fists are smaller than his, he'll argue with you using force. If your fists are bigger than his, he'll try to argue with you using his mouth."0

The...0