If Wu Huaien's assassination could not achieve the greatest effect, then they had to consider whether this plan should continue.
If they continued, the chance of success felt infinitesimal—perhaps success was simply impossible.
After all, by their own judgment, Meng Zhao's martial strength and foundations should surpass even the Yellow Springs Holy Son's, perhaps by far.
Whether it was intuition or reputation, everyone thought so.
Wu Huaien had struggled even to kill the Yellow Springs Holy Son. Trying to take down Meng Zhao seemed a little divorced from reality.
It was like struggling to run five hundred meters, then going to run a thousand. Wasn't that simply asking for suffering?
Grandmaster martial arts were not omnipotent, let alone when facing Meng Zhao, a man famed as a legend. Added to that was the supreme halo of Meng Jizu of the Meng Family having slain a Grandmaster not long ago. It all gave people an uneasy, apprehensive feeling.
Yet not continuing did not seem feasible either. The matter had already begun, the plan was already underway; the arrow was on the string and had to be loosed.
Besides, even if they wished to halt this operation, they would have to see whether the hidden Wu Huaien agreed—and whether Meng Zhao, who had seen through them, agreed.
Once certain things began, even they themselves might no longer be able to control the course of events.
The man impersonating the Yellow Springs Holy Son was none other than Mad Fist of Sinful Valley.
His martial arts were exceptional, and he was obsessed with fist techniques. Unfortunately, his mind was simple and he was poor at adapting on the spot. He was not someone fit to entrust with great matters.
Faced with such a startling upheaval, he was at a loss, not knowing how