09 Sub-Account Zhang Yang was "unconscious" for a full thirty minutes.
Those thirty minutes had truly been agonizingly long. He knew it himself: although these members of the Xing Clan each looked like big, dumb, dark, rough brutes, as though their brains were missing a string, once they got clever, they could rival foxes.
It was only because their clan bore the negative aura of being cursed and hunted by Great Droplet that they had become what they were now. So if his acting was seen through, he would have no choice but to run for his life.
Heaven be praised, when he opened his eyes and "woke" again, everything was still normal. His nine-meter-tall, ninety-eight-ton fiancée was gazing at him with tears in her eyes, overflowing with tenderness and affection. The distance between them had shrunk to an extremely dangerous few centimeters.
Still, Zhang Yang managed to suppress the terrifying symptoms of every hair on his body standing on end, retching, nausea, stomachache, headache, joint pain, necrosis of the femoral head, and so on, while letting a composite of shock, surprise, delight, and countless other emotions flow through his eyes.
"You're—you're better?"
"Mm, completely better, my husband. From this moment onward, you are the supreme clan leader of the Xing Clan." The burly, towering Princess spoke with tears of emotion in her eyes. Wait, hadn't they agreed he was only her fiancé? And the Ancient Witch Clan's bloodline recovery was far too overbearing.
Frightened, Zhang Yang did not dare move, but he quickly said in an impassioned tone,
"No, there is no Xing Clan anymore. From today onward, there is only the Ancient Battle Witch Clan."
He would never forget serious business. Rebuilding the Ancient Battle Witch Clan was his true objective.
"Good. It is indeed time to fully