Ignoring the advice of the other party, Medanzo drank the sorghum wine and, slightly tipsy, responded, "Although this kid is not destined to become one of yours, his parents were once your leaders. You know, I never truly met the couple face-to-face, but I promised them I would take care of their unfortunate son."
After hanging up the phone, the smile at the corner of his mouth gradually faded, he bent down, casually pulled a trash can over, and spat out a mouthful of crimson blood, starting to cough violently.
As if sensing the impending terrifying oppression, he muttered, "Damn it, it's a good thing I was prepared. The Ancestral God really locked onto the soul constructed by the Divine Tree. If this pressure fell on that little girl, she would be brain dead in less than a second."
Medanzo's eyes glowed with a sacred light, and golden lines that resembled tree bark splitting appeared on his exposed skin, flickering intermittently with a dignified aura.
