The Ninth-Rank Formation
Qu Heng had just lifted the tent flap and stepped outside when he spotted a figure standing not far away, seemingly deep in thought. Smiling, he walked over. "Senior Sister, what are you looking at?"
Lian Yutong came back to herself and gave a faint smile, shaking her head. "Nothing in particular. I was just thinking about the coming battle between us and the Human and Demon Races."
At that, Qu Heng's expression darkened as well. After a brief silence, he said softly, "I don't know why Lord Demon King never wants us to have a fair fight with the Human and Demon Races. Instead, he goes to such lengths to set up ambushes and traps. It's hardly an honorable way to do things."
Lian Yutong's expression tightened. Evidently, she hadn't expected him to say something like that. She gave a bitter smile and sighed inwardly, saying nothing. "Perhaps the chaos at the end of the world, all those thousands of years ago, taught our Devil Race a lesson that cut too deep."
"If a direct fight would only cost us more strength and still end in defeat, then why not be a little underhanded? As long as we achieve our goal, what does it matter if our methods are base? In the end, this world only listens to strength. Whoever has the hardest fist gets to make the rules and laws."
Qu Heng nodded silently. This way of thinking was commonplace among their Devil Race.
But personally, he had little regard for schemes hatched in secret. It had been because someone set him up three years ago that the incident had happened.
Though he nodded, his eyes showed that he didn't quite agree. Lian Yutong could only smile wryly and try to persuade him. "I know