Flowing Rules

"Surely you aren't planning to seek revenge on the Orc race, are you?"

Bufeng's face was stern, his voice carrying an unquestionable authority.

The Nether Soil Vine, a plant race, was not particularly powerful.

In the Shadow World, even any random creature that had awakened Psionic Energy could freely bully them.

But it was precisely because the Nether Soil Vine was weak and inconspicuous that he had been able to cultivate step by step to his current level.

It could be said that—

Over his long years of cultivation, he had witnessed countless absurd incidents where races shook heaven and earth over private grudges, refusing to stop until an entire race had been wiped out.

At present, undercurrents were surging through the Shadow World. Many things had clearly yet to come to light. He could make a few guesses, but they were merely guesses that could not be confirmed.

If several races went to war at a moment like this, it would truly be absurd beyond measure!

"Whether it was an offense or a punishment, none of that matters."

"Must you end up like him, separated head from body and becoming an amusing tale for others over tea, before you are willing to let this go?"

"The Orc race is currently at the height of its power, and not all of your clansmen have arrived. What happened here did not affect only you, so there is no need to concern yourselves with it."

Bufeng spoke with complete sincerity.

That was indeed what he thought.

At the moment, everyone's attention was on why the Succubus race had acted so forcefully, as well as the fact that the portal between the second and third levels of the central region had been sealed with restrictions.

No one cared in the slightest about what