Submission

Xu Yi had considered a thousand possibilities, but never imagined the Ghost Master understood him so well.

He didn't dare gamble. He truly didn't dare. He racked his brains, yet couldn't find the slightest way out.

His expression remained calm, but turmoil boiled in his heart. No matter how well he disguised it, the overwhelming conflict inside him was still laid bare before the Ghost Master.

"Hahahaha..."

The Ghost Master suddenly threw back his head and laughed. His laughter was shrill and reckless, so forceful that the clouds overhead stirred faintly.

If we were measuring oppression, what Ji Lie had just endured was but a stream compared to the Ghost Master's ocean—a mere novice beside a master.

The Ghost Master had lived for a thousand years. Three hundred years ago, he had chanced upon an extraordinary opportunity and attained astonishing skill, becoming one of the foremost figures of his age.

Even against the renowned Soul Sensing Ancestor in a one-on-one fight, the Ghost Master was confident he could gain the upper hand.

But ever since he had met Xu Yi, he had been outmatched in every contest of wits and strength.

He had watched the villain rise step by step, right before his eyes, seemingly about to soar beyond anyone's reach. The Ghost Master's defenses had first been shaken, then strained to the breaking point—and now they had finally collapsed.

As long as Xu Yi lived, he could not rest easy.

Yet no matter what deadly trap he laid, Xu Yi broke through it time and again. The Ghost Master hadn't even managed to hold the upper hand for a moment.

That long, unrelenting string of failures had pushed the Ghost Master's frustration to its limit.

Only now, with Xia Zimo in his grasp, had he finally caught a glimpse