So long as no accident occurred, so long as no major figure from the upper ranks of the Hundred Clans directly moved against Dragon Tree Monk, then whatever his purpose was, he would certainly achieve it.
Then what was Dragon Tree Monk's purpose? Was he truly, as Feng Ling feared, intending to use Buddhism's Art of Salvation to carry out some shameful scheme and fulfill a conspiracy he had already planned?
Meng Zhao had never even met Dragon Tree Monk, so naturally he would not rashly draw a conclusion. Still, he already had some thoughts. Even if he did not involve himself in this matter, he would certainly need to keep a close watch on this man.
After all, in terms of identity and position, the other party had been born into the Beitang Imperial Clan. His bloodline could not be changed. Now that the Beitang Imperial Clan was swaying in the wind and rain, while Meng Zhao intended to carve out the Northern Lands and dominate one side, it would pose a great threat if that old fellow plotted some trickery in the Arctic Ice Plains and intended to strike him from behind.
All things prosper when prepared and fail when unprepared. The necessary precautions still had to be taken.
In the end, reason prevailed over Feng Ling. He resolved to abandon Dragon Tree Monk's inheritance and devote all his attention to protecting the Divine Connection Post and the Clan War that would soon arrive.
Afterward, Meng Zhao's formless, intangible Primordial Spirit followed a wisp of breeze and left this place, drifting and wandering through heaven and earth. It remained so throughout the night. When dawn fully broke, Meng Zhao's Primordial Spirit returned to his spiritual platform. Not only did he feel no exhaustion, but he was brimming with