The reflection of my eyes showed in Jian Beitang's pupils. She did not struggle in the slightest, as though her entire body had lost all strength and she was merely hanging from my grip. Clearly, I had pierced through the final defense deep within her heart—the last layer of the cocoon she had spun around herself.
All the immortals watched Jian Beitang as she was now, feeling more or less relieved. Some were even taking pleasure in her misfortune. Jian Beitang slowly looked toward them all as well. The feeling of being mocked and mentally humiliated by others could not possibly be pleasant. I was certain she had never tasted it in her entire life.
She was the lofty Sword Saint Jian Beitang, the supreme deity of the Beitang Sword Dao. Yet now she was dangling from my hand like a dead dog. Such an outcome would be difficult for anyone to accept, and all the more so for Jian Beitang.
"What do you want me to do...? You killed those who should not have been killed... Those who deserved to die are dead, and those who didn't... are dead too... What do you want me to do...? Just kill me..." Tears rolled in Jian Beitang's eyes, and her reddened eyes finally began to clear. Having lost her pride, she no longer had even a shred of face left to salvage. At this moment, it was as though she had emptied herself of everything. Everything she possessed had been stripped away by me in an instant.
"A life for a life, a debt repaid with money. Don't think that swallowing a mouthful of wine will let you forget everything, or that you can pin everything on the alcohol. Those people you killed had relatives and friends, children and families. Even