In some corner of space, the three pseudo-saints sitting cross-legged were unable to make up their minds.
Their brows were laden with gravity as they constantly weighed gains against losses in their hearts. They regretted that the timing was wrong, hoped they had not been discovered and could drag things out for several thousand more years, yet also felt that, now that matters had come to this, they ought to strike first and seize the initiative.
But those eyes of the White Dragon were truly detestable.
If their target had been a saint from another great sect, they would have acted long ago. But the White Dragon was different. Her innate divine ability, Gaze into Past and Future, was something cultivators feared most, for it exposed one's origins. That meant they had to settle life and death, victory and defeat, in a single battle. There would be no second chance to spar and scheme.
Yet if they did not act to save the ancient demon, it would not hold out much longer. If they delayed, unforeseen changes might arise. In the current situation, the fewer members of the Devil Race there were, the more unfavorable things became.
The old man feigned calm, stroked his beard, and said softly,
"The Demon Dragon's Evil Arts are strange and unpredictable. If we act rashly, we may be playing right into the Demon Dragon's hands. We must think thrice..."
Before his words had faded, the ancient demon was abruptly plunged into a life-or-death crisis. The old man grew anxious and wished to harden his heart and act, but the young man opposite him showed signs of retreat. The old man then felt that they needed to keep their composure all the more. The third person took out a magic treasure, preparing to act, but