"Uncle Jiang." Zhou Tianzhou fell silent for a moment. "Words alone are useless. In the end, it depends on what one does. Today, I accept my loss and submit to the rules. I hope you can do the same."
"Fine," said the Second Warden.
"Farewell."
With that, Zhou Tianzhou's demonic coffin stirred and sped away. The other members of the Zhou clan hurriedly followed.
This three-clan battle was a secret affair among the three families, so word would not spread, nor would it cause any great stir. It was the sort of business where one made a fortune in silence.
Once the other two clans had left, the remaining Jiang clansmen were naturally beaming with delight.
"Our brother-in-law is truly incredible!"
"His ordinary combat strength is formidable, and he used his trump card at exactly the right moment—four ounces to move a thousand pounds!"
"Forget the demonic coffin. The instant those demonic organ fragments appeared, I thought it was all over."
Those somewhat older brothers could not stop praising Li Tianming.
Jiang Meng had finished celebrating long ago. Hearing the praise now filled her with pride, but she suddenly recalled what Zhao Xie had said earlier and asked, "Father, was what Zhao Xie said true? Has anyone in history truly died because they couldn't withstand the power of the demonic organ?"
The Second Warden pondered for a moment before saying, "There have been some. But the odds are low. Our Jiang clan had one, though it was a long time ago. The Zhou clan had two. The Zhao clan seemingly had none. Across such a long history, there have only been three in total!"
"The odds really are low..." Jiang Meng felt slightly reassured. But she could never keep her mouth shut, and she said gloomily, "Still, the more you