In the Buddhist faction, one Grandmaster after another rose to their feet amid the shock. Between the Guangci Cult and Great Lingfeng Temple alone, nearly ten Grandmasters had come.
The sinister smile on Xisa's face gradually faded.
His gaze was not on Wei He, but on Emperor Dingyuan in the ceremonial viewing tower.
A Grandmaster had died.
If it had only been Mu Chengwei, perhaps today's situation would not have been driven toward something inevitable.
But with Rhein, a true Buddhist Grandmaster, added to the tally—
The nature of things was completely different.
Xisa slowly rose to his feet.
Across from him, the many Grandmaster marshals of the Nine Great Army Departments also stood.
No one looked toward the arena any longer. No matter what happened there, the matter had already been settled.
What came next—the truly thorny matter—was the Buddhist faction's attitude.
"Xisa, this was merely an accident."
Bai Shanxin stepped forward and spoke in a deep voice.
Xisa said nothing. He merely put his smile back on.
Yet compared to his earlier smile, this one carried an extra trace of chill and lacked a measure of composure.
Behind him, the blood vitality of the Buddhist Grandmasters began to swell and circulate.
One body after another began bursting through kasayas and monk robes, growing taller and larger.
Yet no one spoke, and no one made a move. Everyone was waiting for Xisa's decision.
The atmosphere around them grew ever more oppressive, and the situation stood on the verge of exploding.
Xisa met Emperor Dingyuan's eyes, as if trying to discern something from those lofty, aloof pupils.
Yet no matter how he stared, he could see nothing from Emperor Dingyuan.
Xisa slowly raised a hand.
His five fingers were fair and slender, though his nails were sharp and faintly golden.