Gu Mingyue immediately echoed Zhang Chen's words, his voice brimming with agreement. He feared most that Zhang Chen would stab him in the back, leaving him to be coerced by countless disciples of his own sect into dying for the greater good.
If the countless disciples under him truly pressured him, should he die or not?
If he refused to die, he would be disregarding the greater good and abandoning his brothers in the sect, becoming a selfish little man. His reputation within the Yellow Heaven Dao would likely be utterly ruined. He would inevitably lose the people's support, be isolated throughout the Yellow Heaven Dao, and leave behind a stench lasting ten thousand years.
But what if he died?
He had already become a Twelfth Order natural god. He was no fool—how could he willingly go to his death?
Zhang Chen glanced at Gu Mingyue. "Don't worry. I'm not an idiot. Why would I fall for the Demon Race's bewitchment?"
"The Demon Race is cunning. If I listened to him, once you died, they certainly wouldn't spare me." Having said this, Zhang Chen asked Gu Mingyue, "How much do you know about this Twelve Divine Generals Array?"
"I only heard people say that the Demon Race's Twelve Divine Generals Array was created by Old Ancestor Peacock to suppress the fluctuating fortune brought about by the Demon Race's expansion. To establish this formation, one must first select the twelve Demon Race clans with the most flourishing fortune, then choose Twelve Demon Gods to receive incense and worship, become deities, and suppress the fortune of their respective clans. As for its deeper mysteries, I fear only Old Ancestor Peacock knows them. I do not." Gu Mingyue replied.
"Looks like this Twelve Divine Generals Array is no simple matter." Zhang Chen muttered.