Blackwell's ghost ship stopped at this moment far above the sky, but his hollow ghostly eyes were still affixed to the ground, and faint killing intent and unwillingness were apparent on his corporeal skeletal face.
"Since I can't take the Throne of Death alone, I'll just muddle the waters and wait for a perfect opportunity to strike. I can't let someone else take the fruits of my thousands of years of labor." Blackwell muttered with dense killing intent emitting from his eyes as he took a big gulp from the wine gourd, "But how could he kill the Cursed Necromancer King without getting the Spirit Poison King's curse affecting him?
"Although I had calculated wrong when I detected the Cursed Necromancer King's strange movement over a century ago and thought he was finally going to die, it still didn't make any sense for him to kill the Cursed Necromancer King.
