"What?"
"You plan to kill us all?"
"You're an absolute madman!"
"What about us? We've been a loyal subject for thousands of years. Where is our talisman?"
Millions of differing cries boomed out in unison, making it hard for anyone to hear anything. John glanced at Araxus, who held the spatial talisman in his hand, looking at them with wide eyes. He stared at the talisman for quite some time, then glanced at John.
"You want it?" he asked, much to John's surprise.
"You're not going to use it?" John asked, truly surprised. Using the talisman meant living. Not using it almost guaranteed ones death.
"Use it and become complicit in the deaths of ten million cultivators? That's not my style," Araxus said, a light sneer in his voice, clearly enraged by the Yang-Sovereign's actions.
"Then I'll pass as well," John declined, feeling his approval and friendship towards Araxus surging like a raging bonfire.
