The voice came through.
"No need to assist."
"He is of great importance to me, related to the growth of my Dao, don't intervene, even if it leads to death."
Jiang Ding repelled King Jia's punch with a slash, one sword after another, continuously validating the swordsmanship he had studied over the years, his voice slowly reaching the northern Air-Space Army headquarters, falling into the ears of all the commanding officers.
His eyes burned with an intense and deep red, the boiling killing intent within his chest tumbling incessantly, accumulated over decades of sword refinement, seemingly calm, but actually awaiting the nourishment of a strong adversary's blood to restore his calm and rationality.
Once expectation was lost, the urge to kill would instantly surge manifold, and the emergence of an Internal Demon was a possibility.
