The Hand of Fate
"...As the Holy Lord of Chaoge, I naturally have to provide you with treatment befitting your status, but our conditions are truly limited."
Inside the spirit vessel's cabin, Wu Ding's imperial soul was still restrained by several Black-Armored cultivators... He just hadn't been made to kneel.
Wu Ding was naturally furious. In his current state, with only his divine soul remaining, he would be in extreme danger if he couldn't find a suitable body soon... The Ninth Prison would swarm toward him like locusts, demonic cultivators would never let him off, and even Heaven and Earth would eventually grind him away.
Of course, being ground away would take an extremely long time... But it still left him without any sense of security.
Strictly speaking, he had now fallen into Huang Tianxiang's hands, which wasn't much better than falling into the hands of the Ninth Prison... Whatever happened within the Nether Great Holy Land was its own affair, but outwardly, it remained united.
Huang Tianxiang said nothing at this moment. Instead, he was examining a report in his hands. The farther he read, the calmer his gaze became—but the report concerned the current intelligence on Kunlun Capital.
The Young Lord had used an attack on the Abomination Great Lord's territory as a pretext, secretly returning to Kunlun Capital under cover. All information along the way had been sealed off, and even the teleportation gates he used were in remote outskirts.
Yet the moment he returned, he had picked up the Holy Lord of Chaoge. It was impossible for His Highness to associate this with good fortune. The only thing he could think of was terror.
He had immediately ordered the spies stationed in Kunlun Capital to send over all the news... all the events that had taken