West Wind. The prince's residence, secret chamber.
"Li Mu Yang, why aren't you dead yet? Why aren't you dead yet?"
"Useless! Every last one of you is useless! So many people couldn't even kill a single Li Mu Yang. Why didn't all those wastes die in Kunlun? How do you still have the face to come back?"
"Li Mu Yang, could it be that you truly weren't meant to die? I refuse to believe it! I'll wipe out every last member of the Lu Clan, uproot them completely, and leave not one alive. Lu Xingkong, you old cur—if I find your grave, I'll drag you out and flog your corpse!"
Deep within the mountain valley, a man's furious, despairing roar rang out.
Several lightly veiled young women knelt prostrate on the ground. Their figures were alluring and their skin snowy white. Every one of them held her breath in silence, trembling like a frightened cicada, without even the courage to lift her head for a glance.
After a long while, when the man had exhausted himself from shouting, the black-robed man beside him finally spoke in consolation. "Why must the Crown Prince work himself into such a rage? That Li Mu Yang is possessed by an evil dragon, so it's only natural that he has some ability. However, his dragon-blooded identity has already been exposed, and all the warriors beneath heaven are seeking him out to slay him. Countless tens of thousands of years ago, the dragons were the rulers of Divine Land. When gathered together, their strength could contend with Heaven and Earth. Even so, they were still slaughtered to extinction by humanity. Now, it's merely a lone little dragon. How great a storm could he possibly stir up?"
Beneath the ghost mask, that pair of hollow eyes was