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"Despicable!"
Nie Jiuyou watched as He Ming and the others became puddles of blood, lying dead on the ground with none surviving, his heart burning with rage.
It wasn't that he cared about the lives of He Ming and the others, but rather that these men had been brought by him. The fact that not a single one returned alive would make them a laughing stock to the Shun King and the rest, wouldn't it?
"Despicable?" Xiao Chen said indifferently, "I attacked head-on, where does the question of being despicable come from? And these few third-rate characters, why are you so nervous about them? Could it be that you're afraid you won't be able to report back successfully?"
"What a joke, to whom do I need to report?" Nie Jiuyou scoffed.
"Although you consider yourself lofty, your words betray that there are stronger masters in the Demon Race, at least ones of the same level as you!"
