Heavy Weapon

"Will working hard guarantee success?"

"Why, when things have come to this, could we not let go of the prejudices in our hearts and sincerely accept one another?"

"Did we have to make things this ugly?"

"Was this really good?"

Watching the fiend kneeling before him with its head lowered as it spoke.

Tu Shan Jun said blandly, "So, are you finished?"

His index finger lifted slightly, and a black-red thread slipped from the gap beneath his nail. Like a venomous snake, it coiled in midair, coldly watching the fiend, which was no taller than three inches.

The fiend's mouth twitched. It suddenly opened its blood basin of a mouth and returned to a body over ten feet tall, explosively rising before Tu Shan Jun. Just as it was about to move, a bluish-white ghost hand was already embedded in its face, nails sunk into flesh. It seemed that if it made the slightest unusual move, its head would burst like a watermelon on a melon seller's chopping block in summer.

"I will not control your divine soul, nor will I leave behind any so-called divine-sense brand. I know you can undo that sort of spell. This Yin Soul Art merely grants the guardian sect puppet the same binding power I possess." Tu Shan Jun's gaze fell on the stark white ring that had already grown around the fiend's neck.

The fiend, which had been swollen only moments ago, now looked like a deflated ball. It shrank back into its three-inch form, utterly unembarrassed as it piled on smiles and fawned, "Master should have said so earlier. This sort of restraint is exactly what this little one has been longing for. Otherwise, Master might think this little one is always plotting to betray the sect and rebel against my superior."