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"General Blackwheel, when exactly are we going to make our move?" one man asked, his face marked by a conspicuous scar illuminated by the campfire, giving him a particularly ferocious appearance.
As he wiped the steel knife in his hands, he lowered his voice and inquired.
An icy and sinister look flashed across General Blackwheel's eyes as he glanced at an elder and a youth nearby. "That old man's cultivation level is of the Transcendent Realm Seventh Level. Even if we joined forces, we might not be his match. And even if we could defeat him, unexpected complications might arise. If that kid were to escape, it would be an endless source of trouble," he said in a cold voice.
