"By my spiritual senses, the direction Zhao Rulíng and Yu Changkong seemed to be heading was not Fire Dragon Cave or Divine Saber Hall in Yanzhou, but Lingwu City. Were they going to find that Lord of the Northern Meng Dragon King?"
The Heavenly Demon Palace Lord's gaze flashed like lightning, yet it carried a trace of hesitation. It was not that he did not wish to hunt the two down, but he had two concerns.
First, he feared that his spiritual senses were still being deceived by Zhao Rulíng, that he had made a mistaken judgment and would once again fall into his trap.
Second, the Heavenly Demon Palace Lord was somewhat wary of Meng Zhao. This wariness did not stem from his so-called title of Lord of the Northern Meng Dragon King, nor from the Great Grandmaster martial arts that were now being wildly touted throughout the Northern Lands.
What he feared was this man's mystery, the unknown depths of his foundation.
In particular, he knew better than anyone that this Meng Zhao of the Meng Family was not truly a member of the Meng Family, but an impostor. Yet he had occupied the magpie's nest, turned guest into master, killed the real Meng Zhao, and made that identity his own.
Now, the false Meng Zhao had become the true Meng Zhao. Let alone him, even Beitang Sheng could not expose his identity and cast him into the eighteen levels of hell.
This was easy enough to explain. Whether this false Meng Zhao truly possessed the Meng Family bloodline or not, the fame, influence, and unmatched potential in martial arts he now possessed were what the Meng Family craved. Thus, even if he was false, the Meng Family would treat him as genuine.
United, both sides benefited; divided,