Facing different people brought different pressures. With Zhou Wangqiao's cultivation, combat strength, and cunning, the only one who could leave him restless and hiding everywhere was that ferocious monk, Monk Huikong—not the so-called Pudu Cult Master.
Of course, though Meng Zhao understood this perfectly well, he still had to put on a half-informed expression. The main purpose was to lower the vigilance of the Demonic Path Grandmaster before him. Sometimes, knowing too much could also make people uneasy.
Zhou Wangqiao gave a cold laugh. He was not particularly afraid of the so-called Pudu Cult Master. After all, in their previous battle, although he had been seriously injured, his injuries were much worse than those of the Pudu Cult Master.
However, due to the special nature of the demonic art he cultivated, he recovered from his injuries far faster than the other man.
It was not mere boasting. At present, he could still wield sixty percent of his peak strength, while his senior brother—the Pudu Cult Master—probably could not even bring out twenty percent.
This was also why, when the Pudu Cult's situation had been looking excellent and it had seemed on the verge of launching an uprising, it had suddenly drawn back into its shell. A crucial reason was that the Pudu Cult Master had suffered grave injuries that refused to heal.
Still, he did not state any of this plainly to Meng Zhao. He merely nodded and said,
"That Pudu Cult Master is one of my enemies, but I suspect someone else is backing him.
"I wonder, Dragon King Meng, how much do you know about me?"
Meng Zhao did not know every detail, but he was certainly well informed. Still, he deliberately put on an awkward expression and shook his head.
"Senior Zhou, please forgive me. I am