Yet his face betrayed not the slightest hint of it, leaving only utter sincerity and respect.
He bowed deeply, saluted this adoptive father before him once more, then took his leave.
Kunpeng was seasoned and steady; with a single glance, he saw through Black Peng's little scheme.
But he did not expose it.
Those who truly understood always knew the proper measure of advance and retreat.
Black Peng was precisely such a person.
What was about to be stirred up was the earth-shaking old affair left behind by the two ancient emperors of the Demon Race, as well as the Golden Crow bloodline, born to command the authority of the sun—the orthodox imperial bloodline of the Demon Race.
Such a matter was far beyond the reach of a Black Peng who had yet to establish himself.
As he had said before:
Kunpeng still held a measure of expectation for Black Peng's comprehension.
If he could truly keep his feet on the ground and grow step by step, then in the future, he would surely become a pillar supporting the Northern Darkness faction.
Any force with a brain could not do without talent like this—clear-headed and willing to work.
But the current Black Peng was still far too distant from the day he could truly step onto the stage.
If one wished to gain a firm foothold in the Primordial Wilderness, without the foundation of a Daluo Golden Immortal, one did not even have the qualifications to enter the game.
Even if one managed to squeeze in by sheer luck, the end would likely still be defeat and burial in the sands.
He watched Black Peng's figure vanish beyond the palace gates.
For a time, Northern Darkness Palace was so silent that a pin dropping could be heard.
Kunpeng sat upright