The silence in the hall lasted a long time.
Zhou Xuan's left shoulder was still bleeding. The left half of his blue robe was soaked through, its color darkened almost to black. He looked pale, too, his lips bloodless and sweat beading at his temples, but his stance had not changed.
The bead curtain on the Dragon-Robed Elder's crown swayed slightly.
"Interesting."
The word left the old man's mouth in exactly the same tone as before, still utterly casual.
But the old man had called it interesting.
That was enough.
Zhou Xuan's heartbeat steadied. His opponent had not increased the pressure after Zhou Xuan's sword strike, which meant this phantom really had reached the limit of its power. The old man had chosen to talk.
"You can see the weakness in this phantom of mine."
The old man's tone was flat.
"Not bad. But you should understand that this is merely a phantom."
Zhou Xuan did not take the bait.
He had no need to score a verbal victory. What his opponent said was true: the phantom had a weakness, but the true body might not. That, however, was a matter for later.
"You didn't throw that thumb ring over here to kill me."
Zhou Xuan spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse but his reasoning clear.
"Zhao Ji is dead. All your hidden pieces in the Northern Lands have been rendered useless, and I've seen the Teleportation Array beneath the Extreme Bone Ruins, too."
The old man did not deny it.
"You put too much effort into this scheme to abandon it over a single Zhao Ji. So this thumb ring came to negotiate terms."
Zhou Xuan paused.
"Then let's talk."
At last, something shifted in the Dragon-Robed Elder's gray eyes.
It was barely perceptible.
"You certainly aren't afraid of death."