He carried on the glorious tradition and reasoned with the Blood God of War on the spot.
As long as the other party possessed intelligence, there was room for negotiation.
To Zong Shen, verbal sparring was nearly as important as offensive combat.
Used well, it was an invisible blade that could cut through anything.
Used poorly, however, it could easily become a catalyst for conflict.
A seasoned old hand like Zong had no psychological burden in that regard.
He had gone through dozens of negotiations, large and small.
There had been no shortage of verbal confrontations along the way.
At its core, this sort of exchange still came down to an information advantage.
Naturally, timing, location, and the right people also mattered.
Only by precisely identifying the other side's bottom line could one gain the upper hand in negotiations.
Zong Shen's words brought silence to the scene.
Even the howling cold wind gradually subsided beneath the Blood God of War's pressure.
The frost and snow on the ground rippled outward in waves.
Those blood-red cracks no longer spread.
No one knew how much time had passed. In such an atmosphere, the passage of time itself seemed to become meaningless.
The Blood God of War's supremely calm voice rang out.
"Worthy of the Chosen Ones, said to be the greediest and most profit-driven of all."
"You are not the darlings of the era. You are more like a pack of insatiable rats."
The era in which the Blood God of War had lived before being sealed away happened to be the period when the previous epoch was transitioning into the next.
It knew many inside details and had personally witnessed the rise and fall of continental civilizations.
That was why it could view the Chosen Ones from the perspective of a