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And just like that, the Fiend passed away peacefully.
…
Previously…
"Haven't you all heard what I said?"
His voice carried a subtle hint of anger... because he discovered that the three Soul Subjugators hadn't made a move even after hearing the threat. Instead of reaching for treasures, they all stared at him strangely, seemingly treating him with an inexplicable sense of disdain.
"I heard it, I heard it." Monk Pushan waved his hand. "You're getting impatient, aren't you?"
"So why don't you quickly present your treasures!" shouted the Fiend.
In truth, he wasn't particularly inclined to recklessly take lives at this moment, especially given the emphasis on personnel management stressed by the Guider.
However, if these three individuals continued to be so insolent, he wouldn't mind eliminating one as a warning for the other two.
Following that, he saw the three Soul Subjugators opposite of him taking out items.
Fifty-Eighth unsheathed an ancient, plain longsword, while Fifty-Ninth took out a golden ring. Sixtieth, however, took out a finger.
It didn't seem like they were about to offer any treasures.
The Fiend couldn't believe that these three Soul Subjugators had the audacity to defy him; it seemed like they were all new members.
The Fiends sneered coldly. He was ready to teach these new members a lesson.
As soon as he thought about it, he felt an overwhelming pain and feeling of weakness.
Boom!
Someone...
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