He removed his mask and dispersed his divine powers.
A smile curled across Wu Rong's lips.
This was precisely the sort of villain he intended to be.
He had plotted for this ever since his martial uncle's death.
Back then, he had told the devil that he would fight for it, and he truly had never backed down.
Now that someone from the upper sect had come, let alone merely a Great Sage—even if it had been an old Dao Lord, his attitude would have remained the same.
He was determined to stir this matter into a mess.
Tai Yan's attack was exactly what he wanted.
Those senior prodigies had spent their whole lives being surrounded by stars and courted by the moon. Raised in such an environment, they would naturally have little regard for a junior nobody like him. A few careless words of offense would be enough to provoke them.
That would be enough to accomplish his goal.
Even if Tai Yan endured it and remained polite, everyone had their limits. In the cultivation world, strength still did the talking.
The words of the strong were more easily heard by the world.
He had wandered the world for many years.
He had seen countless talented powerhouses.
There were humble ones, proud ones, gentlemen as mild and polished as jade, and demons who killed without blinking... among the thousands upon thousands of cultivators, most shared certain traits.
That was, when it was time to act, they would never hesitate.
Rules and restraints, worldly ties and social niceties—those were all lies people told themselves.
Keeping one's blood hot was what the sect elders wanted to see.
They would rather their disciples be arrogant and domineering than weak enough to be bullied.
When disaster truly came knocking, they did not want