With a ripping sound, Qin the Old Devil indeed tore apart the Dragon-Trapping Formation. I was green with envy—Kunlun Mountain's Immortal Sect really had no shortage of good treasures.
Seeing Qin the Old Devil destroy the grand formation and release me, Changsun De's expression turned ugly. But after glancing at He Naitian, he quickly suppressed the urge to strike back. "What? Is it really necessary to take advantage of our misfortune like this?"
"Why not? Your Northern Polar Immortal Sect ignored everyone's agreement and brought in the Son of Fortune. Then you bullied him properly, brought down Heaven's Punishment, and invited disaster. Now you won't even let us clean up your mess? Tell me, who else is there to blame?" Qin the Old Devil cursed bluntly, not caring how many realms higher his opponent's cultivation was.
"Brat, is it your place to speak?" Changsun De flew into a rage. But just as his hand touched his gourd, He Naitian reached out to stop him. "Fellow Daoist Changsun, that won't do. The younger generation doesn't know how to speak, so we elders can teach them slowly. What age are we living in? Is there really any need to start beating people?" He was trying to smooth things over.
"You! He Naitian, your Kunlun Mountain Immortal Sect has mobilized in force against our Northern Polar Immortal Sect and taken away the Son of Fortune. Are you trying to provoke a war between the Immortal Sects?" Changsun De spoke harshly, but he had already lost most of his forces. Of the hundred or so Earth Immortals he had possessed, only a dozen or two remained. Facing He Naitian, whose strength matched his own, put immense pressure on him.
Yet he was unwilling to hand me over so easily.
"Forget about a war between