Negotiations

"Launch a proactive attack?! Fellow Daoist Zhang, surely you are joking?"

Mo Jianli's expression changed abruptly upon hearing this. The words nearly burst from his lips, his voice filled with incredulous alarm. His broad brow furrowed slightly, and his gaze, sharp as lightning, locked tightly onto Zhang Tie, as though trying to find some trace of mockery beneath his calm expression.

"Even if Fellow Daoist Ao Xiao of the demon race arrives in time tomorrow, we would merely gain the aid of one early Mahayana stage cultivator.

At best, we can rely on the power of the city-protecting formation to barely maintain a stalemate. That alone would already be a blessing from heaven, no easy feat! Yet instead of holding our ground and awaiting reinforcements, you propose taking the initiative to attack? Would that not be courting death, placing Tian Yuan City's foundation of ten thousand years and its countless living beings over blazing coals?"

The rotating elder seated beside Mo Jianli, an extremely stout old man, became so agitated that the fat all over his body trembled and rippled like water.

He abruptly rose from his broad sandalwood chair, causing its legs to scrape harshly against the floor. His face flushed red, and his booming voice, full of unquestionable opposition, reverberated through the hall.

The atmosphere in the hall instantly turned as heavy as lead, as if even the air had stopped moving.

"Amitabha."

Just as that suffocating silence was about to spread, a calm and lingering Buddhist chant rang out, like a clear spring pouring over scorched earth.

Wisdom shone in Master Xiūmù's eyes, and his voice carried a soothing power. "Elder Zhang Tie has always acted with composure. He is certainly not a reckless and foolish man. Since he has spoken thus, he must already have a