The Pride Devil Master lowered his posture, his tone softening. First, Su Yang was unfathomable; second, these seventeen layers of heaven neighbored Yuanzai Confucius Heaven, only a stone's throw from Grand Clarity Realm Great Crimson Heaven.
With a single thought, a Saint could roam the Myriad Worlds and pass through countless pure lands.
If Confucius were in danger, Grand Pure One Laozi would arrive in an instant.
The Devil Master understood clearly: he could not kill them. Though their vast righteous qi somewhat suppressed the demonic path, it was nearly negligible to him. Yet precisely because he could not kill them, he dared not be overconfident.
What if his ship capsized in a gutter, and several quasi-Saints joined forces to hold him back, leaving his reputation in tatters? How would he command the hundreds of millions of demon soldiers afterward?
There was another hidden concern: from Confucius, from that Vermilion Writ Iron Scroll, he had distinctly caught a trace of familiar aura. It could neither be described nor explained, yet it left him slightly awed, unwilling to act rashly.
It was this wariness that restrained the ruthlessness of his attack.
Seeing the Devil Master suddenly sheath his edge, Confucius and the other four were equally surprised. Though they did not know the reason, they did not dwell on it, merely replying in unison, "The Demon Realm trespassed into the Primordial World and slaughtered living beings, turning lands for a thousand li crimson and leaving cries of grief everywhere. To let a million demon soldiers return would be no different from releasing a tiger from its cage. Our cultivation is shallow, and we dare not claim victory—but we dare to fight."
The Pride Devil Master's face instantly darkened like ink, killing intent surging like a tide. "I offered you kind words,