Unless absolutely necessary, he would never entertain such a thought.
Since that was the case—
He might as well send him on his way personally.
It would save resources, save effort, and, better still, save himself future trouble.
All the intelligence worth knowing had long since reached his ears;
this wisp of remnant soul before him no longer held the slightest value.
If he still possessed the cultivation of a Daluo Golden Immortal, there might perhaps have been a sliver of room to maneuver;
but now, he was merely a heap of dying embers, not even worthy of scattering another grain of ash.
Kunpeng had already made his final decision. A cold glint flashed through his eyes, and his killing intent solidified into something tangible.
A chill suddenly ran down Black Snake's spine, bone-piercing cold shooting from his tailbone straight to the crown of his head.
He stared into Kunpeng's eyes and, for some reason, read utterly undisguised killing intent within them.
But how could that be?
He was a messenger returned in triumph, bearing crucial news concerning the survival of Northern Darkness...
He must have seen wrong.
His mind was surely too chaotic; it was only an illusion.
He could only convince himself of this again and again, desperately suppressing the wild pounding in his heart.
Yet not only did that unease fail to fade, it grew ever more intense. It was as though an invisible giant hand had clenched around his chest, every beat of his heart tugging at a deathly palpitation—as if in the next instant, his soul would scatter and his spirit would dissipate.
Just as he stood there dazed, Kunpeng finally spoke, his tone as calm as though he were assigning some mundane task:
"Black Snake, what you ask is not excessive. I could originally