They had now formed a basic framework of understanding regarding the Lost Kingdom and the Lost Lord of the Kingdom. Dong Fan looked open and composed, strolling along at ease.
The Other Side had far more to consider.
The Lost Kingdom was not a charity organization. It was one thing for Dong Fan to conduct an "inspection," but they could not possibly let him drag around remnant spirits for research and display.
When Dong Fan had first taken down those guards, an intensely malicious presence had locked onto him. It was extraordinary power far beyond normal human limits. It had likely been forcibly restrained because of Dragon Scribe's presence. The source of that malice was fairly obvious:
Sang Jue—that stiff bastard who could not speak like a normal person—might have softened his words in the end, but he clearly had a problem with Dong Fan.
Still, that guy's reactions were straightforward. As the two "fireflies" drifted here and there with Dong Fan, remaining lively for a long time without weakening, his malice gradually came to seem somewhat insubstantial.
Clearly, Sang Jue and Dragon Scribe shared the same position. Both were waiting for someone like Dong Fan, someone who could help them achieve "transfer payment." Or perhaps they had not been waiting at all. Perhaps Dong Fan, who had popped out of a crack in the rock, had suddenly given them a more proactive possibility they had never considered.
Whether that was truly the case required further observation—closer observation.
So in the next moment, Dong Fan abruptly changed direction. Rather than heading to the third "dojo," he turned into the next fork, quickened his pace, and suddenly thrust out a hand. With a thud, it plunged into the somewhat warm rock strata and yanked backward. A series of snapping sounds rang