Xu Yi said coldly, "Old Desolate, does your conscience not hurt when you say that? If I really treated you as a tool, would I have to consider your feelings in everything? You said it yourself: you and I signed a blood contract. What cultivator would treat a demonic pet bound by a blood contract like one of his own people? All these years, I've charged into battle at the front while you reaped the benefits behind me. The information you provided was merely a byproduct of my killing our opponents, yet you take such credit for it. Look at you, making such a fuss—as if I really owed you millions upon millions."
When it came to scheming, the Desolate Charm was already no slouch. But when it came to arguing, he was nowhere near Xu Yi's level.
In an instant, the Desolate Charm's earlier arrogance gave way to unease. He muttered, "Even if I'm not a tool, I'm just a puppet, a hostage. Fine, I've got nothing more to say. From now on, you can keep the baleful energy from the people you kill. Do whatever you want with it. I just want to be a quiet hostage."
Xu Yi was dumbfounded. The Desolate Charm was getting more and more melodramatic. If he didn't snuff out this sinister swagger and let it grow unchecked, it would lead to disaster.
"Very well. Stop going on about being a hostage. It's just that blood contract, isn't it? I'll help you break it. We've been friends all these years, and we've risked our lives for each other. We've helped one another along, too. Let's forget who was right, who was wrong, and who owed whom. After today, we'll go our separate ways, strangers beneath different skies."
Xu Yi's voice was heavy with