Qin He flickered and was already standing in front of Zhao Xiaojia.
Demonic Essence at his fingertips condensed into fine needles, aimed directly at Wu Gou's brow. He said coldly, "Speak. Who exactly are you?"
Wu Gou clutched his chest and coughed blood, yet madness still burned in his eyes. Propping himself up with his curved saber, he tried to rise. "Who am I? I am a dead soldier of the Dragon Clan!"
Qin He raised a brow, and the fine needle at his fingertips suddenly stabbed forward.
The Truth Spell activated soundlessly. There was no dazzling radiance, only a wisp of Demonic Essence seeping through Wu Gou's brow and into his sea of consciousness.
Wu Gou's entire body stiffened. The madness in his eyes instantly faded, replaced by a numb clarity, as though all emotion had been drained from him. "I am a dead soldier raised by the Dragon Clan, number two-seven-three."
"I infiltrated the group to cooperate with the Lineage's sacrifice. Once I dealt with you sacrifices, I could return and claim my reward."
"I thought this would be an easy assignment, but I never expected... even us dead soldiers would become abandoned cannon fodder."
His voice was flat, yet it carried a desolation that seeped into the bone. "Once we reach the sacrificial grounds, if I act and draw a clear line between us, perhaps the Lineage will still accept me and let me return alive."
"Return? Return where?!" Zhou Shan flew into a rage, pointing his mountain-splitting axe at him as he cursed, "The Dragon Clan can barely save itself, and you're still dreaming a spring-and-autumn dream!"
Zhao Xiaojia picked up the talisman from the ground, his face red with fury. "Are you insane? Everyone here is going to die, including the Dragon Clan! You tried