Zhang Shuai's eyes flickered several times. In the end, he still suppressed the greed and killing intent in his heart and said in a low voice, "Things have come to this. There's no need for us to keep fighting. So many people have died; I'll have an excuse to account for it when I get back. Why don't we call it here? What do you say?"
His gaze stayed fixed on Jiang Tian's face, not missing the slightest change in his expression.
To be honest, he was so crazed with envy over the Half-Step Dao Lord's inheritance that he was practically mad.
If he still had any strength left, he would have seized Jiang Tian without hesitation, used every means at his disposal to pry the inheritance out of him, then fled far away.
As for those useless disciples and sons of his in the White Lotus Sect, he could leave them to fend for themselves.
But the crucial thing was, he had a feeling Jiang Tian was still holding something back.
He still had strength to spare.
He himself still had a few last reserves, but he didn't dare act rashly again.
Perhaps to bolster his own courage, or perhaps to intimidate Jiang Tian, Zhang Shuai raised one hand. A blood-red sphere appeared in the air above his palm with a soft pop, turning slowly as it gave off an unsettling fluctuation.
He stared at Jiang Tian, his tone sounding half like a negotiation and half like he was laying down his final trump card. "If you still want to fight, then I, Zhang, won't back down."
"Haah."
Jiang Tian sighed and shook his head.
Then he raised his hand, pulled three pills from his robes, tilted his head back, and swallowed them in one go.
Almost the instant