"This is not being pretentious,"
Nie Jun shook his head, still holding out the Dao Plate.
In his life, he didn't care for many people,
nor did he harbor the grand righteousness that encompassed all living beings.
If he had to say what he cared about, it probably could only be his fellow disciples from Wutong Mountain.
Earlier, Shen Yi's seemingly casual approach to Zhang Laifu could very well be considered forcibly snatching back the lives of that group of people from the hands of the King of Hell.
At least today, as he became the Sect Master, the other party deserved a bow from himself.
Everyone who finally arrived at this place stopped their steps, silently watching the scene unfold before them.
Actually, there was no need for words.
What happened here was known to all under heaven.
They all witnessed with their own eyes Shen Yi thrusting the Purple Sky God Thunder Sword into the old dog's neck.
Now, with his white robe, he was worthy of the name.
"..."
