Wu Rong's expression remained calm.
Great figures had their own struggles. He could not meddle in them yet.
As long as the Eastern Peak and the sect supported him, those great figures would not dare openly move against him.
"I understand..."
Wu Rong casually caught the transmitted message, and his gloomy face immediately broke into great joy.
"What good news is this?" Dun Yi asked cautiously.
"The sect elders have arrived!" Wu Rong let out a breath of relief.
His cultivation had not advanced to Three Flowers, which meant his master could not fight for long.
With sect elders holding the line, Master would not need to take action in those unnecessary battles, allowing him to better use his existing mana to kill Yama Floating.
On the way to the Pill Hall, Wu Rong walked with steady, measured steps.
There was no need to question his skill at riding clouds, yet he did not move quickly.
He was thinking deeply.
How should this battle be fought?
As the Fate Commander Dao Lord of the underworld, Wu Rong's instinct for the bigger picture was sharper than anyone else's.
Before others had even seen the problem, he had already clearly understood that this was a continuation of the Yin Heaven battle against the Nether Clan. Only the players had changed—it was now the Ghost Clan that had emerged after the Nether Clan bowed its head.
Of course, it was indeed a continuation of that war, but with the involvement of every faction, it had become a taut and intractable deadlock.
If he wanted to win, he had to endure.
First, he himself had to endure. Second, the forces behind him had to endure.
He had to be a hard bone that refused to die, one that would not fall even if nailed