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"Rest easy; I shall not end your life today. Our organization lacks talented individuals, and losing you on top of that won't do us any good.
Although I'm displeased about going through so much trouble to take out the Black Coffin from our treasury to satisfy your request, Mount Hua's future has become murky thanks to the Exalted Sword Immortal's death.
"His death alone should be enough for you to be forgiven this time," said the Dark Heavens Association Lord. According to the plan, the Great War of Good and Blood was supposed to have dragged on for a long while—around three years or more, at the very least.
The war was meant to produce countless casualties, and its length was supposed to make the populace turn their backs on the cultivators.
Unfortunately, the war had wrapped up far sooner than expected.
There were some silver linings to this debacle—the Exalted Sword Immortal's demise had plunged Mount Hua into a crisis. Meanwhile, the Martial Alliance had suffered a major blow after losing many of its promising talents.
Of course, this outcome was hopelessly inadequate, but this wasn't the time for Blessed Existence to care about that. He wouldn't be breathing right now if it weren't for those minor accomplishments!
Zhou Xuchuan! Zhou! Xuchuan! You abominable son of a dog! Blessed Existence's rage boiled over even as he kowtowed. Since his face was flushed red from anger, he dared not raise his head lest the Association Lord would get the wrong idea.
He tried to cool his rage somehow, but he couldn't do it. Merely recalling the name of that damn interloper made his blood pressure spike through the roof! That was...
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