Hard Resistance to Falling Lightning

Even so, Zhao Han had nearly rendered Qi Xiu's abilities useless. One look at his face was enough to tell.

In truth, Qi Xiu had already been possessed by the master of this space—the very person who had bestowed his true art and inheritance upon him.

The real Qi Xiu had died long ago.

Inheritance came with risks; one had to be cautious when seeking it.

Perhaps some thousand-year-old demon with impure intentions had offered an olive branch in the name of "inheritance" just to possess someone's body.

Which thousand-year-old demon hadn't been a cunning old fox? None of them had lived that long by selflessly giving everything away or wishing for death.

Qi Xiu took a step back and said, "Sir, you and I have no grudge between us. Why fight to the death the moment we meet? Why don't we sit down and talk? Let me extend the hospitality of a host."

Zhao Han had only come to take the treasures. The true art in particular would be very useful to him, but he had no intention of slaughtering everyone.

He said calmly, "I'd be happy to talk, but you gave me no chance. Attacking the moment we met—is that any way to treat a guest?"

Seeing that Zhao Han was open to negotiating, Qi Xiu said softly, "That was my mistake. Allow me to apologize first."

"Sir, there are two more annoying flies here. Why don't we join forces and deal with them first?"

"Fine!" Zhao Han glanced at Duanmu Xi and the Scholar. He had wanted to capture one of them for research for a while now.

He still harbored a grudge over the Scholar's soul being sucked away earlier. How could he let that go?

He wanted to see what secrets lay behind it.

Qi