Meng Zhao gave the burly man an odd look. He was keenly sensitive to the hostility and killing intent emanating from him. The gulf between their strength was as vast as heaven and abyss—yet with that little ability, he still dared bare his fangs at him? Was something wrong with his head?
But seeing the resolve in the man's eyes, as though he were staring at some utterly vile criminal, and the fearless, self-sacrificing air in his expression, Meng Zhao suddenly understood.
He had heard the two talking earlier and knew that Old Man Wu was a pragmatic man who understood the times, while this burly fellow was more loyal and cared for the country and its people. What Meng Zhao had not expected was that this man's loyalty ran so deep that he would cast even life and death aside.
Meng Zhao had encountered quite a few people, but there were very few like this man, willing to sacrifice their own lives for the Beitang Imperial Clan.
There were all kinds of people in the world, and most clung to life and feared death. Even Great Grandmasters were no exception. Yet this man truly possessed lofty integrity, unlike an ordinary person.
Meng Zhao felt a measure of appreciation for him. Slowly withdrawing the mountain-like pressure of his aura, he said,
"In your eyes, I am a great scourge bringing chaos to the Northern Lands, and in the future, I may even become the chief culprit behind the devastation of all life there. Is that right?"
The burly man had originally been about to gather all his strength and attack Meng Zhao. Even death was no concern to him; that was his conviction, his faith.
Hearing Meng Zhao's words, he first froze, then snorted coldly.
"Isn't that so? Your Southern