"Be cautious with your words!"
A stern reprimand interrupted the middle-aged man's tirade.
That was an imposing figure standing upon a Mo Long, merely seated on the ground, as if the sound of surging waves emanated from him.
Fu Xiao swept his gaze over the kings, all of whom were dissatisfied with the High Priest and also his allies in the planned action.
"The matter is over. Let us not speak of it further."
"In the time to come, be ready for the Immortal Race's assault. The Immortal Race won't be lenient again any time soon."
Snap! Snap!
The crisp sound of clapping was especially clear in this environment.
A slender figure slowly approached from the distant earth.
"The... the... High Priest." The middle-aged man in silver armor muttered, fear and panic spreading across his face.
"Are you here to inspect the battlefield? We were discussing how to deal with the Immortal Race's atta..."
He didn't finish his sentence.
