"Hm?"
At the sight of lightning dancing across the sky, the God of Death's expression changed slightly.
His handsome brows furrowed faintly, brilliant lightning reflected in his dim gray pupils.
Then he turned his gaze toward Zhao Xuan and said calmly, "Why go to such trouble? You cannot kill me. I only need to pay a slightly greater price to escape this place, and you may not fare well either. Why not let this end here? What do you say?"
Looking at the God of Death's fair, handsome, and earnest face, Zhao Xuan's mouth twitched. He wished he could stab several holes in that face with his God Slaying Spear, then point at him and loudly ask where all this talk had been when he was plotting against him earlier.
Pah!
Zhao Xuan sneered and lightly spat, his cold eyes fixed on the God of Death.
"So this is your answer? Then I understand..."
The God of Death sighed. He then glanced upward as a patch of black mist gradually spread from beneath his feet. The black mist was exceedingly strange. Logically speaking, Zhao Xuan was the sole master of this illusion, with everything under his control. Yet when the black mist appeared, he discovered that he had lost all perception of the area it shrouded.
Zhao Xuan's gaze sharpened, and with a thought, the illusion underwent a sudden upheaval.
The wild lightning in the heavens suddenly grew restless, circling above the God of Death. Boundless flashes of lightning made even the dark clouds pale in comparison. Once they gathered to a certain extent, an imposing dragon's head suddenly took shape, thrusting out from the clouds and diving toward the God of Death.
"Troublesome."
Not a ripple stirred in the God of Death's gray eyes. He reached into his left