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The tablet fell silent at Li Yanchu’s words.
The young Daoist’s eyes radiated cold killing intent, his expression icy. He did not seem to be joking.
“Immortal Master, why would I ever deceive you?” the tablet said with a smile.
“That Golden-Winged Roc is proud and haughty; it may have appointed me, a mere human cultivator, to guard for it! Daoist, you must understand the struggles of wandering cultivators like us. Surviving itself is a blessing, what honor or principle can we speak of? Since I was assigned to guard the entrance, I simply guard it as ordered!” the tablet explained.
As they spoke, a sound like metal splitting stone pierced the air from above. A spectral Golden-Winged Roc appeared in the sky, its wings stretching hundreds of zhang. It radiated an overwhelming sense...
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