Moreover, he had been schemed against because he bore the Imperial Mandate and Qi, which held an extraordinary significance for Beitang Sheng.
His younger sister, on the other hand, had no such concern. She was also of the Great Emperor's bloodline; so long as she did not encounter some great upheaval, why would she need Meng Zhao's protection?
Even if one day heaven and earth truly changed, chaos erupted across the Divine Land, and the Beitang Imperial Clan was defeated and forced into retreat, then it would not be the concern of a dead man like him to worry over such matters left behind.
Thinking of this, he could not help but sigh. The only reason he harbored such thoughts was that his fear of this man ran too deep, casting a shadow over his heart.
His request for Meng Zhao to look after his sister stemmed only from his subconscious belief that the other man might become the greatest victor after chaos descended upon the Divine Land.
Shaking his head and suppressing the last trace of thought in his heart, Beitang Xing slowly raised his right hand.
Memories surfaced in his mind of when, as a child, he had learned his first palm technique. At this moment, memory and reality overlapped. This technique, the one he had practiced most solidly and mastered most deeply, was unexpectedly being used in the end to finish his own life.
After a crisp crack, Beitang Xing completely shattered his own skull. The last sliver of life Meng Zhao had deliberately preserved for him vanished entirely.
Yet after Beitang Xing's death, Meng Zhao fixed his eyes tightly on the corpse, as though waiting for something.
Just as Beitang Xing had said before, if Meng Zhao wished to kill him, there was no need to