Mo Li glanced sidelong at Dagruel, who was bowing slightly before him. He unhurriedly set down his teacup and spoke calmly.
Though his voice was calm, it carried an awe-inspiring authority that sent chills down one's spine.
"May I ask whether you have a way to resolve the hidden dangers within my territory?"
"If you do, I am willing to pay any price. I only ask that you save my people."
Before Mo Li, whose strength far surpassed his own, Dagruel kept his posture exceedingly low, displaying none of the pride or ferocity expected of the Wrath of the Earth.
There was only his longing and hope to save his people.
Hearing Dagruel's words, Mo Li fell silent, his fingers unconsciously tapping against the armrest of his chair.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock..."
It was clearly an ordinary gesture, yet it brought an indescribable pressure. Even someone as powerful as Dagruel felt tremendous strain when facing Mo Li like this.
But he had no other choice now. Even beings as powerful as Guy and Milim could not affect the desertification of the Barren Land, not even enough to alleviate it.
The same was true for him.
If you wanted Dagruel to fight, that was no problem. But when it came to improving the environment, he could not merely be said to know nothing—he was utterly clueless.
He had no idea where to begin.
In the past, it was not as though he had never sought help from other Demon Lords, but the outcome had always been obvious: nothing came of it.
So, gradually, he had given up.
Rather than seek help from others, it was better to train his people's bodies and increase their strength. Only then could they improve their chances of surviving in an environment as harsh and unforgiving