"Sect Master, the Primordial Yang Sect Master is seated there, what could he possibly want? He can't still be hoping for Divine Emperor's forgiveness."
A lean young man, draped in a white robe, looked disdainfully in the direction of the Primordial Yang Sect.
As the Saint Heir of the Cloud Mist Sect, he certainly knew how good the Primordial Yang Sect's initial hand was.
They didn't need to do anything, just needed to protect Liang Si. Given the Divine Emperor's nature, they never should have ended up in such a sorry state.
"Saint Heir, choose your words wisely! The affairs of the Primordial Yang Sect Master are for His Majesty to decide. It's not our place to jest about them," the figure seated at the forefront of the mountain peak slowly spoke.
Shrouded in a faint mist, his body wasn't clear to vision, but one could still sense that his gaze was always fixed on where the Primordial Yang Sect was situated.
Not just him, even the four people behind him were doing the same.
