By the lakeside, amid the peach grove, before the thatched hut, fallen blossoms drifted in profusion. The Departed opened his mouth. "#@&*..."
He was speaking an ancient language. Don't know which epoch it belonged to; outsiders could not make out what he was saying, nor could they catch any clear spiritual fluctuations.
Yet judging by his emotions and bearing, he was undoubtedly "greeting" that half-sheet of paper, red to the point of blackness. His words were fierce, a true outpouring of feeling—extremely... unfriendly.
The True Saints from the four dojos, including Tattoo Palace and Guixu, had their eyes opened. The Departed, an extremely dangerous existence whose name remained on the "Upper Half," one of the most supreme beings—he was truly... formidable. He was cursing the Kill List.
The Departed was deeply displeased. A black-red list had appeared in his dojo. Who was it trying to disgust here?
He didn't know whether the list had specially emerged because it sensed him, or whether someone had drawn it here. Whatever the reason, it was an "offense" against him.
The key was that half the list had not truly arrived. It merely manifested its form and Dao rhythm, incomparably dazzling and dripping with blood, like a black sun that bled.
The four True Saints said nothing. The Departed was simply too forceful and overbearing. He even dared curse the Kill List. If they displeased him, he would surely "greet" the four of them with the same true temperament.
"I need to undergo a minor tribulation. You should leave—hurry up, don't dawdle." The Departed forcefully saw them off again, waving them away.
Shi Chuan, Zi Mu Dao, and the other two True Saints silently rose to their feet. This time, they still had not even gotten a cup of tea before the Departed directly